Grand Prix Et’s

In fifth grade my parent’s signed me up for a military band that was sponsored by my mom’s place of employment, International Salt.
Well really, they signed me up because Birdy wanted to be a baton twirler and our families didn’t want her to be on the bus alone.
I was very overweight from eating my problems. My parents thought it was good idea and that I could lose some weight and maybe find some new friends.
The kids in the band were the same ones I went to school with. They didn’t like me there so what reason would the like me here?
Well to keep me inline my brother joined too although he could only be in it for one year because of his age.
His excuse was that he was going to keep me inline because you know what kind of a spoiled brat I was.
The real reason; Full of teen and pre-teen girls he could get hooked on drugs and fuck them when they’re too high to say no. He was only around me when we went home so he could tell mom and dad my latest offense to the human race.
So right off the bat I was ASSIGNED (no choices for the likes of me) to the 50-pound bass drum.
I complained about how it hurt my back and neck and that I couldn’t keep time and fight the pain too.
Of course, they got me all sorts of steel braces for my shoulders and complained when I told them they didn’t help.
Lazy spoiled brat that refuses to carry his fair share.
With my back and hips of course, I couldn’t do it. Of course at this time I didn't know the reason I couldn't keep up with the other kids. I thought having your legs and back hurt was normal and that I must be lazy like everyone said.
So, I did it anyway.
I sucked because as I said you can’t keep cadence when every step was pain.
After two years of ridicule and just plain meanness I quit.
A lot of little mean stories in those years but who the hell cares?
I don’t. not really.