Message to all

Ladies and gentlemen of the corps of 2001:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the season, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your corps. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your corps until you age-out . But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at videos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.

You are not as awkward as you imagine.

Don't worry about competition. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve a guard problem by chewing out the contras.

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 am on Rookie Initiation Night.

Do one thing every day that pushes your endurance.

Sing your corps song.

Don't be reckless near other people's drill moves. Don't put up with people who are reckless near yours.

Hydrate.

Don't waste your time comparing scores. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, you only compete with yourself.

Remember applause you receive. Forget the boos. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old patches. Throw away your old drill books.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you like drum corps for the rest of your life. The most interesting people I know at 22 are still involved with their corps. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know should be.

Use plenty of Gold Bond. The Green Bottle.

Be kind to your chops. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll age-out with your corps, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll get a medal, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll instruct at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on DCI's 75th anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are all the other performers.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have two left feet and your guard instructor wonders out loud if brass folk lost the coordination gene.

Read corps handouts, even if you don't remember them two minutes later.

Do not read RAMD posts. They will only make you feel angry.

Get to know your bus driver. He holds your life in his hands.

Be nice to your section. They're your best link to your corps past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends, like corps, come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in drill and personalities, Because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were a rookie.

Perform in Texas once, but leave before you melt. Perform In Madison once, but leave before it makes you think all cities know about drum corps.

Travel. Other than on a bus.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Scores will fluctuate. Judges will be controversial. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, scores were reasonable, judges were noble, And members respected their staff.

Respect your staff.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you'll have a bingo game. Maybe you'll have a wealthy sponsor. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with props or by the time it's the end of the season, they'll look like crap.

Be careful getting too caught up with drum corps history, but learn from those who lived it.

Drum corps history is a form of nostalgia. Reliving it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it better than it actually was.

But trust me on the sunscreen.