I Need Help! (so what else is new)

     The first thing you should understand is that this blogging thing is very new to me.  It has taken me most of the day to download and figure out (for all you yankees, figure out is a southern expression) how to make this work.  Part of the problem is my age.  I was born during the day of the manual typewriter.  You know..... when we actually wrote letters, so this is more of a struggle for me than for the average 12 year old.  None the less, I have accumulated a set of skills and knowledge both worthless and profound that the aforementioned 12 year old will never know.  I can sew a button back on a shirt, know how to use basic tools and remember what a vertical hold knob was used for.

     I am posting on a page established for the "Houston Band Foundation".  As most of you are aware, I retired in May of 2016.  At that time, I voiced my desire to set up a foundation that could give scholarships to graduating seniors to recognize both their contribution to the band program and their need going forward as they enter college.  The retirement "Soirée" given to honor everyone who survived 25 years of my foolishness resulted in some leftover funds.  These funds were supplemented by folks who made specific donations to the foundation.  The end result was enough money to give out a scholarship or two, but not enough to sustain the effort for the long term.  Therein lies much of the reason behind this epistle.

     To make this work on into the future, I need to raise some money.  Conventional (selling) fund raising could, in the paraphrased words of Otter from Animal House "Take years and cost millions of lives".  That leaves stealing and begging.  As time allows, I will set up "field trips" for those of you interested in knocking over a liquor store in the name of supporting the band at Houston.  In the meantime, I have placed a button at the bottom of this blog page that connects to PayPal.  Any donations you make would be very appreciated and passed along entirely to the cause of supporting kids.  If you avoid technology like I do and wish to mail a donation, you would make a check out to the Houston Band Foundation and mail it to:

                    The Houston Band Foundation
                    c/o Jim Smith
                    556 Grand Steeple Dr.
                    Collierville, TN  38017

     Donations are tax deductible as we are a 501c/3 organization thanks to work done by David Pickler.  The board of directors for this adventure consists of myself, David, Michelle Taylor, Aronda Thetford and Scott Lane.

     From time to time, I will post some memory about past band happenings or some opinion about what is going on in the world of education.  I hope that I can keep in touch with as many of you as possible while doing my part to continue supporting the band at Houston High School.

Me

Year 1 .... The Adventure Begins!

            Many things about my first year at Houston were remarkable…. remarkable in that I was allowed a second year!  I had been at Shadowlawn Middle School for the preceding two years and we had begun to build something of which I was very proud.  None-the-less, I wanted a new challenge and when Jeff Cozzens called about swapping jobs, I hurried on down to talk with John Clayton (Principal).  Mr. Clayton hired me for 2 reasons:  1. He knew my wife.  2. Jeff was desperate to leave Houston.  I probably should have read something into Jeff’s extreme desire to hit the road.  Rather than tell the story of the entire year, let me bookend the year with these 2 gems.

            Summer preparation went fairly well and band camp started with about 54 kids.  The band size grew during the first couple of weeks, topping out at 70ish.  My most engrained memory from the beginning of that year was almost killing my band president.  We had elected Michelle Ticer to the position of student President.  During lunch one day, we were all horsing around in the P.E. Gym.  The game of the day involved me grabbing folks by the feet and spinning them around until they came off the ground.  I grabbed Michelle, spun her up to speed, and lifted her off the floor.  Instead of gradually putting her down, I launched her across the gym to watch her slide.  The combination of my herculean strength (yeah, right) and a freshly waxed floor sent Michelle sliding head first into a concrete wall about 50 feet away.  The resulting concussion sent her to the hospital and me to Mr. Clayton’s office trying to explain why a 250 pound man slinging a tiny little girl into a concrete wall seemed like a good idea.  Michelle’s mom was nice enough not to press charges and I was allowed to remain employed.

            The year was full of instances like the one above and, yes, more than one other kid saw the hospital because of me (stories for another day).  At the end of the year, we decided to take the band to Disney to march in the parade.  We loaded on a Wednesday afternoon and left for Orlando.  We had gone about 35 miles in our 2 buses and I already knew we were in trouble.  The driver of bus 1 was crazy.  Not crazy like a little wild or unpredictable but crazy like mentally unhinged.   He was in the middle of telling us about having met Amelia Earhart.  Please note that not only had he met her, but also claimed to have met John F. Kennedy and Babe Ruth.  His age at the time of Ms. Earhart’s passing would have been negative 2.  Just as he was finishing his Earhart story, I felt the bus lurch and heard a noise.  The kids on the back of the bus said we had just veered into the other lane and hit a car, running it off the road.  I told the driver “Hey, you just hit some guy” to which he replied, “Nah, must have been a pothole”.  We continued on for another 30 miles before a highway patrol car appeared alongside and pulled us over.  The conversation went something like this:

Officer – “Sir, you just ran a man off the road”

Driver – “No sir, I just hit a pothole”

Officer – “Did you have that big dent in the side of your bus when you left?”

Driver – “Must have been the pothole”

Officer-  “Turn around please and place your hands behind your back”

            Not that I am reluctant to have crazy folks locked up for hit and run driving but, in order to make the trip affordable, I had used a small local bus company with no backup drivers.  While the kids piled into a small convenience store where we had been pulled over, I got on a pay phone (pre cell phone days) and called the company owner.  He, in turn, called someone who called someone and, roughly 2 hours later, we left with the SAME DRIVER.  Yep, the State of Mississippi let this guy get back on the bus and drive.  As he sat down and started the bus, I told him he was lucky he didn’t get arrested.  He turned to me and said, “No sweat but, speaking of arrested, did I mention that I met J. Edger Hoover once!”