We had been waiting the entire year to go on the Disney trip. Everyone was half-asleep, but excited as we packed our stuff in the coach bus at 4:30 in the morning. Yes, we were driving down to Florida. From the middle of New England. A 24-hour drive. The usual mixture of soul and Disney music filled the bus as the band and color guard chatted away and screamed, too excited to sleep. As we left the state, a girl drew its picture, accompanied by its name and taped it to the window. "Florida or bust!" she said.
Those pictures became our map. As more and more pictures went up on the window, we knew we were getting closer to Disney World. But it seemed as if the pictures took longer and longer to put up. The music died down as we tried to settle down and get some sleep. But it's hard when the seats are only so big and you're all crammed into the bus. It was a very sleepless few hours. One drummer, frustrated with his body's inability to fall asleep, said almost hysterically, "Well, if I can't sleep, I might as well start stuffing my face with Cheeze-Its!" And he did. We stopped often for bathroom breaks. I would always get up to stretch my legs, but my friend sitting next to me wouldn't. He was a lucky one. He could sleep...sort of. Whenever I got back, he was sprawled out over both seats, sleeping. After about 3 times of this, I began to hit him whenever I got back.
In the middle of the drive, we switched bus drivers. The new one didn't know how to drive. He would step on the gas, then the brake, then the gas again, resulting in a jerking, lurching motion. Soon half the bus was car sick, including me. The band parents didn't really know what to do with so many in the same situation. I hoped to God that it would only get better from there.
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