Band Banquet Poetry and Prose
June 1, 2007
Mr. Bean’s Gift Presentation
When I think of Mr. Bean, there are three things that come to mind: his baton, the practice card,
and the orange box.
Back in middle school, people really resented these things.
But I realize now that his baton made us precise. His practice card showed us the nature of selfdiscipline. The orange box kept us alert.
It was you who first showed us how to play in a band. And for that, we thank you, Mr. Bean.
—Justin Kim
Mr. Holder’s Gift Presentation
I suppose we could go on and on about what a nice, funny, or cool guy Mr. Holder is, but to me
all of that is unimportant.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Mr. Holder for a few things:
Thank you for shooting down our intonation.
Thank you for criticizing our balance.
Thank you for hammering again and again on our technique—or lack thereof.
Thank you for being a horse’s tail when it was necessary.
Thank you for fighting the administration.
Thank you for never giving in, for teaching us that “Persistence and determination alone are
omnipotent.”
Because when it was all said and done after 4 years, the result was 20 of the most outstanding
concert band recordings ever made in this business.
Mr. Holder, I have played in nearly 25 public performances under your baton. And the only
thing I regret is that that number is not 100.
Ladies and Gentlemen, please join me in honoring an outstanding band director and an even
more outstanding human being, Mr. Roy Holder.
—Justin Kim
Mrs. Broz’s Gift Presentation
there once was a lady who smells so sweet,
she always wears cute shoes on her feet!
one of the many smiling faces in the stands,
she can be counted on to lend a hand.
200…300 copies she's made!
of programs and charts and music we've played.
with rosy cheeks and a smile to brighten the day,
mrs. broz, we wouldn't have you any other way!
—Lauren Hebert and Drana Sulaiman
Luley-Land
Playing in the jazz band
Music flowing all around
Always different every time
Every time a new blue sound
Flowing blowing always knowing
That we’ll never
Know
Saxes screaming
Bright brass gleaming
Shining rhyming
Double timing
12-bar blues
Funky grooves
Blended chords
Breaking boards
Constant counting
Chorus shouting
Fingers racing
Pulses pacing
Superspeed
Playing lead
Singing swinging
Notes we’re stinging
Gigs we’re booking
Concerts cooking
Improv solo
Big crescendo--Once you blow
Really
Truly blow
Once you are the band
And it is you …
Anticipation
True elation
Encapsulation
Of you being
Captured in so few notes
This
Is what we do
This
Is who we are
Welcome to Luley-land
Playing in the jazz band
—Sam Adams
Class of 2007: Our Last Four Years
Once upon a time, not very long ago,
The Lake Braddock seniors started marching to and fro.
We encountered Donald Duck, marched to triplets in Swan Lake,
Heard about naked French women, and had some ice cream and some cake.
We earned a superior at VBODA, our 23rd in fact;
And we went home very proudly on our way to another plaque.
Down to Georgia we did go, where we saw many different sights.
We got to eat at the Varsity, and see Stone Mountain, a delight!
We went to the Mall of Georgia, (the biggest mall built, ever!),
To spend our parent’s money, a very enthralling endeavor.
Over our summer vacation, we had no time to waste,
Some of us had to prepare for the Midwest Clinic with haste.
On our shrunken lot, we explored the very depths of space,
The sounds of all the instruments were like bits of celestial lace.
We marched around like storm troopers, Cantina jazzed with saxophone,
We flew with the Jetsons, and spelled out “ET PHONE HOME.”
Season 24 went by, and spring trip came around,
So we packed up and set off, for we were Broadway bound.
New York was full of colors, Toys ‘Я Us was full of toys;
While riding on the boat, we saw Lady Liberty full of poise.
The musicals were amazing, the actors were surreal;
From the Phantom to the Beast, it was hard to think it real.
The next school year about to start, marching had just begun,
And we all were prepared, to have a year of fun.
We played the Barber of Seville, written by one as great as Bach,
A piece a character made famous with the line “What’s up, doc?”
We snaked through Poet and Peasant; William Tell came, ready or not,
Where one of the morning song birds unfortunately was shot.
With our 25th Superior we all were filled with glee,
And what could make it better than a trip to see Mickey?
We first saw the Magic Kingdom, a place where dreams come true.
There was lots of food at Epcot, and there were fireworks, too.
We marched in a parade, with just us and a duck,
And we rode the Tower of Terror - are we alive out of sheer luck?
But since we all lived to tell, and see our senior year,
We made it to year 26, our graduation oh, so near.
We practiced our geometry in the first moves of Porgy and Bess,
And then in West Side Story, we danced the Sharks against the Jets.
We marched the British step that to all of us was new;
As if that wasn’t enough, we sang the song’s end, too.
After all the cameras flashed, the best for last we saved;
Once we marched off of the field, we grinned like monkeys and waved.
We got to visit Gatlinburg; in sleds down hills we’d race,
And play on go-karts and bungee cords, and walk around the place.
The whole way down to Tennessee, with anticipation we sat,
To see Mr. Holder in his natural habitat.
Now class of 2007’s time has finally come to an end,
But we’ll forever cherish these memories we’ve built together as friends.
—Ariel Miller
Holder Holds Magic
Posture poor, summer weary
They come
Some apprehension, much anticipation
Band camp is beginning!
Here’s Mr. Holder. He never gets older.
Excited, enthusiastic, energetic
part drill sergeant, part father figure
choreographer,
leader with love, ready to inspire.
Varied ages, nervous newbies, uncertain sophomores
cocky juniors, confident seniors- varied skills, ages and sizes.
Mr. Holder has just two weeks to mold these 200
discordant, disorganized kids into a band of brothers
who move as one polished, perfect unit.
First day, Mr. Holder wears his Donald Duck shirt, shouts
“Don’t get confused like this duck!” Chaos as
kids try to find their places. This is absurd! Mr. Holder
must teach this group to walk sideways, frontwards,
backwards in formation while playing their varied instruments
advanced music you won’t find on MTVGershwin, Broadway Tunes and Leonard Bernstein!
Is it possible? Can it happen?
Let the magic begin!
Learn your music! Stand tall as trees.
Stop crawling like slugs. Count that beat!
Make the formation tighter. First time people,
march in the spacing. British steps- point toes!
High knees- reach. Count those steps.
Watch that guy in front of you or you’ll swallow a trombone!
Pay attention! Let’s go.
Do it again, (and again and again and again).
Sun streaking down. Sweating. 95 degree weather.
No time to complain. Learn quickly. Listen hard.
Mr. Holder talks faster than lightning strikes.
All in awe of their band leader who sings,
"Don’t settle for mediocrity! Hold horns higher.
Keep marching until your legs feel numb."
"This could be stunning!" he joyfully announces watching
the rows weave in and out. Mr. Holder
excited has an electrifying effect.
Then suddenly summer endsProud parents come to watch.
Mr. Holder conducts with expressive surety.
Dazzling drummers, brilliant brass,
worldly woodwinds working together,
marching in rhythm. Tired teens transformed
into stalwart, straight soldiers marching in sync.
They look great, sound great, march great and
their music ranges from forceful, powerful
to festive, soft, soothing sounds uplifting as prayer.
They've learned team work, endurance,
love of music and responsibility.
Finally football season.
Don’t forget shoes, socks, and aardvarks.
Students arrive eager, ready
shoes shiny, uniforms spotless
Instruments poised and ready.
Marching onto the field
startling the crowds, stands growing quieter.
Music lights up the night.
Holder's marching band magic
has begun……….
—Sherri Waas Shunfenthal with help from Justin Kim