-- Journal --
chorus buses to Boston
Jarred awake by an ill-placed pothole or ex-possum, I cracked an eye
open to find an open manga on my face, a halo of Cheetos dust
surrounding my head, and a voice behind me reciting, “Warning! Balls,
pucks and other objects may fly into the spectator area, despite
spectator shielding, injury can occur. If struck, immediately ask usher
for directions to medical station.”
Still groggy and suddenly overpowered by the scent of 12 cans of Axe and
whatever ungodly smell the spray had meant to mask, I asked what my
friend was reading.
“Our concert ticket,” he replied with the grin of someone who
anticipated balls, pucks, and other flying objects with as much glee as
hearts, stars and rainbows.
So began my school chorus trip to Boston.
We arrived a few days before the Boston Marathon, so it seemed every
street corner had a picture of a triumphant track star and every street
had a medical station.
These seemed to be the only indications of our departure from Bristol,
Conn., however, and on our arrival in Boston that night, we saw so few
of the historical landmarks that the city had to offer that we began to
call out, “Look there's a Shaws,” or “CVS! I bet it was the first” just
to enjoy the opportunity for sarcasm.
Plus the televisions on the bus weren't working.
One 6 a.m. wake up call, 150 Burger King breakfast sandwiches, and five
hours of trilling and trumpeting later, we were all finally ready to see
We learned our sightseeing tour would take place from an aquatic bus of
sorts, part of a fleet called the Boston Duck Tours. The drivers cracked
surprisingly amusing jokes, we became aware of the oldest inns, and
sites of famous battles, and we did not believe that our overgrown
airport cart would float for a second.
The collective sigh of relief as the vessel slid smoothly into the
Charles River was so synchronized that it could have won us the highest
marks for breathing in the day's competition.
That evening we were dropped at Quincy Market, with little time to shop,
but ample time to take in the seemingly never ending hallway of food
with such girth and diversity that it was our only meal stop that could
draw no whines from picky eaters.
There were stands for dieters, vegetarians, vegans, diabetics, and
anyone with a particular yearning for Turkish pastries.
Any student, director, or chaperone will mark the afternoon of
projectile banana puree, musical Captain Crunch, and “Candid Camera”
cavity searches the highlight of the 2007 music department trek.
The aforementioned concert – performed by the amazing percussionists of
the Blue Man Group – showed us pipes can be entirely effective
instruments and toilet paper coupled with strobe lights can provide
Though photography was prohibited within the theater, the lobby meet and
greet guaranteed the presence of blank faced, Gumby-colored bald men in
the digital cameras and picture phones of the band and chorus kids for
many months to come.