It's Hard to Leave When You Can't Find the Door
Saturday, October 8, 2011 at 11:22PM The best posts are the ones I don't even need to write. Here are excerpts from a short-order live chat with a few The Readers earlier in the week; thanks to langrish for acting as Moderator Dominatrix, to Pridelander for hosting duties, and Laura The Reader and BelleNation for batting cleanup, thus sparing me the arduous, ego-murdering task of cutting, pasting, and de-iditotizing my own words. Sorry to those of you whose questions I didn't get to, or who came rolling up late in the action. You get extra cake next time.
LocalArtist: How’s the residency? What are you learning in the Everglades?
MB: Patience.
Observation.
That I must submit to life rather than forcing life to submit to me.
The fact that what looks like the end of the road is actually just a bend in it.
The fact that house geckos like to cling silently to walls, and when doors slam, they also like to jump on the floor, and that the screaming of gecko-related profanities isn’t going to usher them out the door any faster, so if you just run shrieking to the other side of the room and hope they go away, they pretty much will.
Eventually.
You hope.
NedTheReader: What’s been the toughest moment in working on the Ohio State book?
MB: What a tremendously uplifting question. Wow. Cheers, Ned. “Tell us, in detail, about the last time you started the car in the garage and had the door three-quarters of the way down before the cast of The Breakfast Club intervened!”
Honestly, the most difficult times are ones I cannot and will not share, whether out of professional courtesy, or because they fall within the Off the Record territory, or because, well, the feelings of other human beings are involved. And as we all know, a blog is not the place to settle such delicate matters. Twitter is.
One tough moment I can tell you about came last month, when I drove up to Jason The Ridiculously Awesome Drum Major’s hometown, Avon Lake, to watch him perform at his alma mater and conduct a training clinic for high school and middle school kids. It was quite possibly the stupidest driving blonde trick I’d ever done; it was right after the two-a-day rehearsals ended, and I came up from Columbus on about two hours of sleep because I was polishing off some grading for the writing courses I teach to deployed troops. Then after he was done with an exhibition the next night at around 10:30 PM, I needed to haul straight down to Cincinnati, spanning the very top of the state to the very bottom in one shot, so that I could meet some family obligations. I balanced an ice pack on the back of my neck so I wouldn't nod off.
Edge of the WorldSo I’m sitting there on the edge of Lake Erie still several hours away from sleeping in my 6th different bed in less than two weeks. And it’s cold and I’m wearing this criminally underperforming windbreaker. And I’m watching JD Who Gots Game and Nate The High Toss Terminator (yes, that’s a name change for Nate, and a webmistress-directed, permanent one; mark me) being Very Serious about holding Jason’s jacket and hat and baton when he wasn’t performing. After halftime, I took a second to check my messages and some of my high school and college friends were popping up with chatter about putting their babies to bed.
For some reason, this folded me right in half. I had one of those “WHAT AM I DOOOOOOIIIIINNNG with my life?!” moments right there in the bleachers, that "alone amongst hundreds" experience. All my rowdy friends were mommies and daddies with little ones, truly productive members of society, active in their parishes and stabilizing their communities, and here I was in this Cleveland suburb on the other side of the country from my husband… to... what? To sit and watch the Ohio State Drum Major, who, to be brutally honest with you, really didn’t mind whether I was there or not. All for this as-yet unwritten book—without an advance, mind you-- which has been an uphill logistical battle, emotional stormfront, and career crapshoot every micrometer of the way.
I could have left. Some will say I should have left-- thrown the notebook in the backseat of my car, driven south to my family, and kept straight on till morning until I reached Josh The Pilot in Mobile.
I did not, however; leaving was giving up, leaving was caving to an extremely momentary emotional impulse, and leaving was leaving before Jason was done, and who knew what kind of SuperMega Prestige Mode, twelve-dimentional baton chess moves he was going to pull off tonight.
So I stayed.
Of course, I got some sleep and a Krispy Kreme and the next day I saw the D Row guys squat down to Bieber fan-level to instruct some third-graders on proper baton holding technique, and all was well in AuthorLand. But that was my own personal temporary are-you-in-or-not-in Full Metal Jacket watershed.
buckette: “…who, to be brutally honest, really didn’t mind whether I was there or not.” I find that very hard to believe, Mary Beth! Our Jason?!
MB: No, I don’t mean-- okay, listen very carefully to the words coming out of my keyboard. It's not a personal thing. That’s the point. What I meant by that was Jason was properly and professionally focused on the task at hand, and he was of course brilliant. There was going to be no standing around with lattes in our hands, conducting a multilayered soul-bearing discussion about foreign aid to Uzbekistan. But he was going to perform the same whether this writer chick was there or not… which is exactly as it should be. So in that sense, yes, he could have cared less if I hadn't showed up at all.
It's important to underline why I made the drive to begin with: It was an unparalleled moment to gain a sense of where Jason and two alum DMs, Scott and Eric Sommer, grew their strutting wings. This was Lorain County, which, as I’ve mentioned, is the world’s leading exporter of Ohio State Drum Majors. I grew up in a completely different high school football atmosphere, and needed to immerse myself in this one to fully understand it.
It was a one-man homecoming. Kids who weren't even in high school at the same time he was knew his name. Odysseus had returned from Troy with the crest of the Ohio State Drum Major on his chest. He’d done exactly what he told everyone he was going to do since the fifth grade. It was an enormous triumph for Jason and crucial recruiting moment. In that sense, it was a privilege to be in the stands for those performances. But he didn't show up to hang out.
This is what I meant in a couple of the comment threads about the importance of staying out of the man’s face, respecting his territory, and letting him do his job, especially with the football team absolutely disintegrating the way it's been. He’s going to have the rest of his life to not be the Drum Major come this May, and the last thing I want to be right now is another checklist item.
In the meantime, I’m just sittin’ and ordering drinks.
KatyKeane: Well when you have those fork-in-the-road moments, what keeps you going?
MB: Faith.
The fact that I do not believe in coincidences.
Also caffeine right out of the field. I pretty much just crack open the vacuum pack and mainline the grounds at this point. But yeah, mostly the faith thingie. That’s why moments like the one I discuss in Spun are so vital and uplifting. They confirm that I am not, in fact, going insane… or that if I am going insane, I’m at least going insane in the right direction.
PostTime: Who do you like in the Breeders’ Cup Classic?
MB: All entrants not trained by Todd Pletcher and his Four-Color Pen of Power Losing, the vastly overrated Uncle Mo included. That horse is Harold Hill in a saddlecloth.
I will say that I have a good feeling about Shackleford. There, that should drive down his odds from now until the end of time.
UtadaTheReader: Is it difficult to watch Ohio State Football without thinking of Notre Dame?
MB: When I downloaded Ohio State’s schedule earlier this year to plan out the season, I sat there in front of the laptop with my eyes closed for a few moments because I was marrow-level terrified that Notre Dame would be there, playing at Ohio State. I did not want any part of that kind of Sophie’s Choice, Brady Quinn’s Sister Half-Jersey Mess.
The absence of Notre Dame in my life is actually most keenly felt outside Ohio Stadium, because both football experiences are so different-- and I have my eyes on the Band, not the game. It’s moments when I am caught off-guard which are the worst… and these are the most prevalent…
Parrothead Pete: like what?
MB: One day while watching the Band walk through marching drills outside on a cloudy day, I was reflecting 
That cloudy day glowing feelingon how pretty the sousaphones and instrument bells are in that kind of light. They glow. It’s an ethereal effect as they swing past one another on the field. I haven’t really been able to capture it on film.
And all of sudden I remembered how I loved to see the Golden Dome in the winter months; that’s how the sky often is in South Bend. Same effect. I did a lot of staring at the ground for a few minutes. All these touchstones became a part of my cultural and psychological furniture during a time of immense growth, and that’s not just something you can obliterate with a mental roller brush. Nor do I want to; the pain means there was once joy there.
The other tough moment was after Convocation, when the Band led the freshmen into the Stadium via the ramp. I followed them all the way to the student union and then doubled back. And the Ohio State men’s glee club was there singing under the rotunda. Under other circumstances I would have camped out at the hem of their garments, but that day I turned on my heel and walked very quickly in the other direction. As my longtime The Readers know, my bond with Notre Dame’s Glee Club is tenaciously strong, and that just wasn’t something I could handle yet.
It’s a grieving process which mirrors the loss of my father. For the past few weeks I’d pick up what I think would make a great birthday present for my dad--sometimes even make it all the way to the register before remembering. I barely cried at the funeral, but standing there in the middle of a museum gift shop with a lithograph of an airplane I can’t give him… that’s what gets me.
TeamSTEW: Why does Nate get a new nickname?!
MB: D Row conducted an impromptu aerial competition at the end of the Drum Major clinic. Nate was 
Jason and Nate chuck 'em in Avon Lakechuckin’ them right up there with Jason. He could have prepared a five-course meal, complete with handmade pasta and a from-scratch heated ganache for dessert, from the time of the release to the bottom of the arc.
Nate has a terrific work ethic and this deadly javelin sense of humor that seems to come out of nowhere, but always twangs right on the target. He is fresh hot wonderful and should never go anywhere near Todd Pletcher.
When I first saw the twirling style of Ohio State Drum Majoring, I assumed that it would take years to get to where Nate is, but when I asked Jason about the learning curve a few months ago, he gave me a whopping "Well, actually..." So has Nate, every single day I see him practice. Rarely have I enjoyed being proven wrong so commandingly.
Okay, kids. I need to stick with Wild Animal Time here and arise with the sun, so one more…
QuandoQuandoQuando: So, Tink… KitKats: Original, white chocolate, or dark chocolate?
MB: I uncoil my intestines on the table for like two hours and give you a last call and THAT’S your question?
Githy: you know us, always the important issues
MB: White.
JemTrulyOutrageous: Wow.
MB: I know, right? Rrrrrrrraaaaaacist.
Today's Tasting Room Musical Note is sponsored by life being good to me so far:
Reader Comments (29)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWW, I missed a live chat?! :P
Great picture of the band.
Heard you had a tough loss today, poor guys.
Odysseus had returned from Troy with the crest of the Ohio State Drum Major on his chest.
The only thing more useless than an English degree is a Classics degree.
(said the Classics major)
"vastly overrated Uncle Mo included. That horse is Harold Hill with a saddlecloth."
coughcoughICEBOXcoughcough
SuperMega Prestige Mode
bwahahahaha, I love a girl who busts out any and all Call of Duty namechecks
Thanks for giving us a little more insight on Nate, MB. We loves us our D Row!!!!!
Oh... *#&%, MB, I am so sorry that I didn't warn you about the glee club. I had no idea you'd be at convocation. This stuff just keeps getting thrown in your face, doesn't it. It's good you're one tough chicka :)
"And all of sudden I remembered how I loved to see the Golden Dome in the winter months; that’s how the sky often is in South Bend."
I know exactly what you mean, MB. Very pretty.
: (
You guys really need to give us a headsup on these livechats.
...But I had a question about sousaphones....
So do Jason The Awesome and Nate With The New Name, I Forget What It Is often dress identically, or is this just a lakeside thing?
Livechat? Where?
Oh yeah... IT'S OVER
poop on you guys for the extreme lack advance notice
Mary Beth, please schedule another one of these soon AND LET US KNOW ABOUT IT. I would have loved to be there.
"There was going to be no standing around with lattes in our hands, conducting a multilayered soul-bearing discussion about foreign aid to Uzbekistan."
I would like the transcript of THAT.
This is what I meant in a couple of the comment threads about the importance of staying out of the man’s face, respecting his territory, and letting him do his job, especially with the football team absolutely disintegrating the way it's been.
Last night's collapse was just about the fastest, most complete blowup I've seen in a lifetime of watching college football.
Good luck with that, Band. Yikes.
...video?
What about meeeeeeeeeee?
Oh... *#&%, MB, I am so sorry that I didn't warn you about the glee club.
The Statesmen rock!
Oh MB you never were on the Uncle Mo bandwagon.
SuperMega Prestige Mode
You mean he has another one? :)
"Mary Beth, please schedule another one of these soon AND LET US KNOW ABOUT IT."
+ infinity
that "alone amongst hundreds" experience
I have actually been wondering MB about how lonely you must be sometimes, are you overdoing the road warrior thing? FB/phone calls can't replace being with your good friends and loved ones in person. We know you like your personal space and, this probably helps you be very understanding to Jason The Ridiculously Young Drum Major and not have the typical girl freakout reaction (sorry ladies LOL but some of y'all need to chill on this type of thing) when he needs to go get Awesome Drum Major shit done.
BUT the OTHER side of that is it sounds like you are bouncing around a lot and that can cause some wear and tear. Now you are alone in the middle of the freaking Everglades wilderness!! Far from your husband and family. I travel a lot myself for my job, and especially for someone like you who seems very warmhearted and affectionate in spite of the fact that you have this strong independent womens college thing going on, thats got to take a toll.
thank you so much for answering our questions, Belle. That was fun.
"I have actually been wondering, MB, about how lonely you must be sometimes."
What am I, soon-to-be-chopped-up liver?
"I have actually been wondering MB about how lonely you must be sometimes, are you overdoing the road warrior thing?"
Two weeks ago I was sitting across a table from Josh Halter and a bottle of wine. A few days after that I was hanging out with Nick The NASA Poobah and an astronaut before meeting G-Force from my Florida bachelorette days for lunch by the ocean. Today I saw three baby alligators. Tomorrow I'll be in the Keys. On Thursday I'll sleep in my own bed with my own husband on my way back to Ohio. Next week I return to watching The Best Damn Band In the Land continue to make itself just that.
I'm fine :)
Man I wish I could have seen that high toss competition!
WOW! That picture of the band in the stadium is amazing! They look fantastic!
grew their strutting wings
Like.
but see, MB... that was exactly Hessian's point... huge adventures and good to meet up with old friends, but when are you RESTING?... when are you sitting down and just have some good old fashioned girltalk with your support network?.... you have a wide one I know.
You are independent but you are not an island, even if you're driving through a bunch right now...