Return of the blonde Sheley girl

August 2000--a nervous, semi-shy 13-year old freshman walks onto the green practice field behind the high school. As she looks around, she notices all of the other nervous freshmen waiting for marching band practice to start. Suddenly, some of the upperclassmen are there and give a demonstration of a marching band routine. The precision and skill shown excite and intimidate the novices who are not used to the squeak of grass under their shoes as they turn to the right flank.

It's 9th grader day and all of the section leaders and band directors are busy teaching fundamentals. Left first, then right. Go on 1. Make sure your heels match up with the line but don't hang over the other side. Hold your arms up. The buzz of commands circulates the heavy air. Our cute freshman friend finds herself unable to grasp the fundamentals that have been so diligently presented to her. Frustrated, she hangs her head and prepares to head home for the day when a kind senior offers to go over the turns one more time. The motion becomes more routine as this freshman and a new-found friend continue to practice as everyone else, exhausted, exits the field to the awaiting minivans. Determined, they succeed in snapping their lower bodies to the right and then left while maintaining poise and stability in their core. As they finally allow themselves to go home for a well-deserved rest, they feel equipped with skill for their next day.

August 2003: Our freshman is now a senior, a section leader, and an accomplished marcher. Her skill and dedication have enabled her to now guide and mentor other band members, who, like she did, need a little extra help at first. Assigned to assist a small group of brass instrumentalists, she escorts them to a corner of the practice field. Noticing some shuffling feet, the antithesis of the precise and proud heel-to-toe roll required in this corp, she suggests ways that these new students can improve. One student, not remembering the first name of his guide, affectionately terms her "the blonde Sheley girl". And so she will be known to him to this day.

The blonde Sheley girl's marching band days are long over. So is her blonde hair. Or, I guess I should say, so was her blonde hair. Yesterday was a red-letter day because blonde Sheley girl returned, trading in her reddish brown locks for a goldeny, still reddish, but lighter, delightfully caramelized and summery shade of blonde perfect for the coming warmth.

Just thought you'd like to know.