Everybody Be Cool, It's Just a Normal Day

So me and C went to a movie this week. But not just any movie. This was a one-night-only special event. And it was a gift for C, so it was even more special. What was this incredibly special event?

The 2015 DCI Tour Premiere of Awesomeness!

(I added the "of awesomeness" part, but it was awesome...Just not in the way it was intended.)

What is DCI? It stands for Drum Core International, an organization for people to join that just couldn't get enough of marching band in high school and feel a need to join a "professional" one, touring the country performing against each other, for reasons. (And before you get all snippity, I know it's spelled "corps", but I'm a phonetic reader, so...it's core.)

And disclaimer, no matter how many band things I watch, they all start to look the same after ten minutes, no matter the quality of the band, which I also can't tell. Are they good? Are they bad? I have no idea. The only way I can tell how a band is doing is either by watching C's facial expressions or watching kids biff it and drop their tubas. But can I just say, watching a band competition in a theatre is FAR superior to watching it in person. Three reasons. 1) Comfortable seating with clearly marked boundaries so fat people's fat won't touch you because the armrest stops them! 2) No sitting in the sun, and 3) Movie theatre popcorn. Enough said. Ahhh. So much better. I can survive almost anything, if I have my popcorn.

So that aside, let's set the scene. I got these tickets about a month ago. I had no idea how popular this thing would be. I kept it a surprise from C because birthday reasons, obviously. And because it was one night only, when we walked into the theatre it had the name of a different movie on the marquee, so he was even more confused. It was awesome.

So we walk into this theatre, and there's one middle-aged lady in the middle of the theatre and an old couple in the back. So we take the awesome seats where you can put your foot on the bars and commence digging into our popcorn bucket. Then, this awkward couple comes in and sits right next to us. Hello, people! The whole row is open! Heck, the whole dang theatre is open! Just sit somewhere else! Anywhere else! Who on earth thinks this is okay? Thankfully they sat on C's side so I still had room. They kept talking to us awkwardly and I think they thought I was kidding when I said I didn't know what the heck was going on. Ughhhhh people. I understand you're on an awkward date. Just...make it work, and don't involve me. You said yes to the guy, after all.

So the lights dim, the show starts, and the sound... doesn't. We sit awkwardly in silence for a couple seconds until C says "Hey, I need my sound!" and gets up to tell someone, when Awkward Date Guy says "Hey, I'll go with you!" Which leaves me and Awkward Date Girl to sit in strained silence while her smile says "I'm having so much fun!" and her eyes say "HELP MEEEE". The music finally starts (thankfully) and our night of wonder begins. I can't wait to share this evening with the awkward date couple and the eight other people that showed up.

It opens on two guys wearing matching sky-blue polos that start commenting on this thing. Commentators? Commentators for a band competition? Is anyone else thinking "what the freaking crap?" here? Anyone? Just me? Okay. And then it pans down to the field, and guess who's down there? A THIRD polo-d gentlemen commentator. Are you kidding? This is hilarious. And they keep talking about the brass and the percussion and the weather and the music and the arrangements and the physical demands on the marchers, ("Yeah no, don't put me down for cardio...")

 

And that's when it hit me.

DCI is like a lamer Pitch Perfect.

No, stay with me here. Strange, cultish, frenetic fans? Check. Specialized lingo? Check. "What a nerd alert!" Check. Matching costumes? Check. Music? Check. Commentators? Check. Blockbuster movies about you? Well, check for Pitch Perfect, uncheck for band...

"It is refreshing, yet displeasing to the eye..."

But you see? It's like the weirder, lamer little sibling of college a capella! With this newlyfound knowledge, I equated each band I saw to a group in Pitch Perfect. Hardcore fans will know what I'm talking about. 

Band 1 - This all-male tool-fest had dancer-people dressed up like golfers and played a Gene Kelley medley. They also danced around with silhouettes of females wearing tulle skirts ("Oh, not a dude...Not a dude..."). In all reality, this is probably the only girl action they're going to see all year. Just like the lines they formed on the field, these dancer-men are definitely not straight. I give you...the Treblemakers! 

"This is a travestyyyyy!"

Band 2 - In their pre-performance interview, they said that their show was called "Sideshow", and was supposed to depict a Depression-era traveling circus. But this isn't any circus! It's a depressing circus, since, as he so aptly put it, "Depression is... not super happy..." Whaaaaaaaaaat? It's not? And let me say, "sideshow"? More like freak show. I felt so bad for all the wedgied flag wavers. Those costumes were not dancer-friendly. They formed a singular star at the end of the show, which seemed fitting. One star. No finals for you. I give you... the Sockapellas!

"Sockapellas... Proving life doesn't get better for everyone after high school."

*Side note: After every performance, there were people that totally clapped. In the theatre. What?*

"Do we clap?" "No we don't." "Never."

Band 3 - According to C, this band always wears really peculiar colored pants, so when they stepped out in black pants, I was muy triste. But then they turned, and half of their pant was peppermint striped! It looked like weird pajamas! Score one for the costuming department. Their show was titled "Inferno", and their director described it as "going through the nine rings of suffering". And he was not wrong, although I don't think that he meant it in the way that I took it. Let me just say, once the large banner saying "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here" came out, I knew it had begun. And then randomly, two members fell in love as the show progressed? I guess you could say that they... found love in a hopeless place? *slow clap* I give you... Das Sound Machine!

"I set fires to feel joy."

Band 4 - This all-male band, according to C, used to be really good, but have fallen in the last few years. They had extremely sparkly gloves, and wore boxing helmets on their heads as they punch-danced their way around the field. And then a soloist appeared! A vocal soloist! Because "nothing makes a woman feel more like a girl than a man who sings like a boy", am I right? "You're so right John, everything else seems wrong." They also formed a giant mustache on the field as their closing shape. It was called "Game On"? Guys. You lost your game a long time ago. Because of their overall weirdness, I give you... that one old man group!

"This number is like an elephant dart to the public's face."

*Intermission side note - There is a drum core (fine, corps) hall of fame? ...what? Who decides who gets in that? Can C qualify? Asking for a friend...*

Band 5 - Our next group paraded onto the field wearing yellow sashes and some nice khakis they picked up from Sears before they drove in. Their show was all about numbers, and a creepy female robot voice kept yelling random numbers during the whole show. It was unsettling. And they had a tambourine solo from the Happy Hands club, I'm pretty sure. Their colorguard was the least scandalous of all the colorguards in the land that day. I give you...that one group that does really well that wears blue - The Footnotes! 

"That's a double negative."  "That's a lot of negatives."

Band 6 - Oh man. They definitely saved the best for last. If by best you mean super weird. Their show was called "Kinetic Noise", and it definitely lived up to the title. It was like a freaky mix of electronica and marching band, and you weren't sure what was playing, and I have never felt that confused about a band performance in my life. Their leader-man refused to smile and looked extremely creepy, kind of like someone you'd see riding around in a van offering kids candy. And then the metal atoms came rolling out onto the field. That is the best way I can describe it. You know what an atom looks like, right? Oh, I'm the only science freak here? Fine. There were like 14 metal things that looked like this rolling all over the field. "Lesbi-honest", this presents a giant safety hazard, yeah? Does this not look dangerous to anyone else?

"Whoomp, there it is..."

Just... what? Because their colorguard was wearing psychedelic spandex and the whole show felt a little... drug-tripped, I give you... The High Notes! 

"Stoney baloney."

Bonus Feature: they showed us the winners of last year's band competition. Let's just say... we all know why they won. It probably had something to do with the extremely...convertible outfits. I mean, the band was good too. But when you have costumes that change from normal to scandalous in the blink of an eye, you have to wonder. Cease the stripping! Let's keep this real, people. This is a family event. They had ribbon twirlers though, that's always fun. I give you... the Barden Bellas! Well, mostly just Stacie (gold star if you can guess which one she is.)

"They're the rock stars. Well, you know, not including athletes, frat guys, or actual cool people..."

After all that had concluded, they told us who won, which I had no idea who it was until C told me what they were wearing (I'm not kidding, they all mesh together for me and I can't tell them apart...). The winners were...the Footnotes!

So in conclusion, everything becomes fun when you compare it to Pitch Perfect. Band competitions are better in theatres because no one bugs you and you get to eat popcorn. If you're on an awkward date, don't take it out on the strangers around you. And finally, "I'm posing an important philosophical question. If I don't go to that [competition], will it still suck?"

Happy (early) Birthday C!

-K