By Emily Scott
Business Editor

Bandos: a human species so engulfed in the “sport” of Marching Band. The depiction of band nerds in the “Mean Girls” film is truly fiction and the epic “Sweet Victory” band performance in Spongebob Squarepants is not a correct comparison.

It’s adorable how much these kids obsess over this hobby. “I love band!” are sarcastic comments from the majority of upperclassmen fed up with the weekends stolen from football games and the ultimate band kid experience – competitions.

The band life consists of three to four days a week with your favorite group of students, blasting their instruments at the most unnecessary times. It is an awkward sequence of events and you can usually find me losing my mind.

The most pleasant aspect of this activity has to be the smell that I am surrounded by. A glorious mixture of sweat and sunscreen fills the air. They are so wrapped up in this amazing musical experience they forget what a shower is.

An array of directors and technicians help us improve musically and visually. It’s a true blessing having such extreme different personalities, ranging from possibly clinically insane to sarcastic insults, my personal favorite.

Screaming in your face through a megaphone at everything you are doing wrong really makes anyone want to drastically improve.

The ever so infamous band camp isn’t all that it cracks up to be. Any sort of stereotype you may envision in your mind is wrong. Twelve hour days of painful “reps” and scorching sunburn that will turn into an awkward tan eventually is a basic August day for a band kid.

Don’t even think about leaving for lunch time, this is a lockdown. No one gets in and no one gets out.

It turns into routine from August to November – wake up, band, sleep and repeat. The band life is certainly a unique mixture of awkward moments, difficult music, and the most glorious group of teenagers you will ever encounter. No one chooses the band life, the band life chooses you.