Some Words of Wisdom...
"During marching season, you hate it. You curse your band director, you swear at the staff under your breath, you run laps and march back and forth like lobotomized lemmings and wonder, "What the hell am I doing here? I hate this!" Maybe you cried at some show, but that's most likely because you fell on your ass and couldn't get back up because the field was completely soaked. You wonder why people would do this torture for four years, why people would volunteer to be officers and section leaders, and how someone so fat and out of shape as the marching instructor could've ever marched the Cadets. By the time you're a senior, however, at the you're bawling your head off at the Band Banquet slideshow. You see a picture of you and your ex-best friend acting silly at a rest stop and you think, "You know, those really were good times." So it goes, year after year at Seminole. Marching Band is a rite of passage, a neccessary evil that frustrates and exhausts but at the same time rewards in its own little way."

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