DARTMOUTH
September 21, 1985

Ladies and gentlemen, in memoriam of our visit to Dartmouth, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at the wonderful state of New...Jersey.

The Princeton Band just drove in from New Jersey, and boy are our lungs tired. New Jersey is a solid waste storehouse, a slagpit seeping with sewage-saturated cities of sordid stenches and silly pseudonyms. Take Mawah. Please. No, really. While you're at it, take Trenton, Secaucus, Rahway, Elizabeth, Metro Park, Metuchen, Paramus, Passaic, Hopat Cong, and don't forget Ho-Ho-Kus. We don't mean to imply that everything in New Jersey is contaminated, but the state tree of New Jersey is dead, and even our jackets glow. Speaking of garbage, what's the difference between a New Jersey girl and garbage? The girl gets taken out once a week. Forming a barrel of biohazardous chemical waste on the field, the Band plays, "Take Me Out to the Slagpit."

Elsewhere in the Baaadlands....New Jersey's anti-perspirant poster child, Bruce Springsteen, defies the old adage about singing with food in your mouth. The Boss "Prooved it All Night" in "Candy's Room," but his "Hungry Heart" was "Born to Run." Bruce sung "I'm Going Down (South)" in my "Pink Cadillac." Driving west on "E Street" in Asbury Park, he put his "Jersey Girl" on a "Downbound Train" and married Julianne "I'm on Fire" Phillips. Forming a sweaty headband on the field, the Band dreads the coming of little Springsteens who will surely be "Born in the USA."

But seriously folks, we may be from a bastion of biohazardous quagmiredom, but New Jersey is the Garden State. With such sterling facets as the Jersey shore, Atlantic City, People Express, and the scenic New Jersey Turnpike, with such quaint resorts as the Vince Lombardi Rest Stop. And what about sports? New Jersey is blessed with the presence of: Doug Flutie, Doug Butler, Hershel Walker, the New York Giants, the New York Jets, the New York Nets, and now, the Statue of Liberty, and our new and improved state song.

But the best part of New Jersey is -- leaving. And to the Dartmouth College Class of 1989 we say, "Aren't you glad we came?" But now we're "Born to Run."

LEHIGH
September 28, 1985

(The Band marches out in a precision manner to a fancy cadence. Marching down the fifty yard line in two lines, the Band branches off and forms a block formation in the center of the field. Band marks time until formation is complete. Drum Major high-steps through the center of the formation to the front of the field, and salutes the home crowd.)

Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the New Princeton University Precision Marching Band, World Renowned for its High Stepping Sonic Glory. (pause) Unfortunately, due to construction delays imposed by the State Planning Board, the precision portion of our show has been delayed indefinitely. (Drum Major falls down)

The Princeton Band would like to welcome the Class of 1989. Arriving on campus, freshmen found that many traditions had been abandoned. The writing sample was scratched from the Freshman Week schedule, and cleverly concealed proctors were posted to prevent pilfering of Princeton's precious prize, The Clapper. Although unable to mount Nassau Hall and snatch the Clapper, the Freshmen were able to snatch their mummies' credit cards, thus enriching their education while impoverishing their parents. By graduation, these students will no longer be "Like a Virgin" in the "Material World."

While the Freshmen are busy climbing the social ladder, other things are also rising on campus. Feinberg Hall, towering over the campus, will satisfy the needs for entering freshmen for years to come. When finally completed, these hi-rise freshmen will be able to savor the unique spectacle of the new Molecular Biology Building, Princeton's first building designed with MacPaint. Commonly mistaken for an argyle sock, Mr. Venturi's latest erector set nightmare surpasses all his previous handiwork. Inspired by a bowl of Wheat Chex, this landlocked steamship is lavishly equipped with bay doors, conveniently located on the third floor. While the MacBio Building nears completion, anticipation mounts among frustrated residents of yet another building. The Edwards 74 are anxiously awaiting the day when they can finally come out of the closet, the kitchen, and their friend's living room. When will Edwards construction finally be complete? The Band has a good idea.

Speaking of frustrating delays, take the American Judicial System. Please. No, really. Sixteen years after women were allowed to enter Princeton, the three male eating clubs are finally being challenged. Frankly, we think it's about time. But until the recent court ruling is enforced, the Band must resort to guerilla tactics. Anticipating a close shave in court, the Band sallies forth and attempts to join an all-male club.

But the real question on the minds of Princetonians young and old is, "Can the 1985 Tigers get the job done?" The Princeton Band says "Yes." And with their talent, drive and spirit, the Tigers are surely on the road to #1.

BROWN
October 5, 1985

To Whom It May Concern:

We, the undersigned, cannot condone the cruel and callous condemnation and confiscation of kegs on this colorful college campus. Cordially, The Princeton University Band.

When in the Coors of human events, the administration feels that it's Schaefer to Foster a sober Budweiser student body, kegs become a thing of the Pabst. The administration and students are at lagerheads, because each student knows that his Heineken Naragansett and enjoy a cold one around the quad. The administration thought that they problem in the Bud, but students are still Millering around in search of that elusive golden brew. The Band asks the musical question, What's Lowenbraun? Kegs, shown here. And you can't have them. Tough Schlitz.

While other campuses are rolling out the kegs, students at Brown must find something else to roll. Although some may want to get out of this joint, not all are upset with this tragic turn of events. One campus group that is particularly happy is SADD. Forming:

a)

Students Against Drunk Drivers

b)

Students Against Dry Dorms

c)

Stop Admitting Democrat's Daughters

d)

Send Dollars Against Dyslexia

e)

f)

the Brown Band

we say, don't despair! In four short years, when it's time to relax, if you've got the diploma, we've got the beer.

Doesn't the thought of four sober years just make you want to die? But wait! Don't take that cyanide pill! There are so many other ways to escape the grim reality of Brown. Try hanging out with high school students -- they always have beer! Drink methanol and get blind drunk. Get a lobotomy and try taking your courses graded, for once. Or, if you can brave the long lines, go to the corner drug store and pick up the Real Thing.

But for a truly harrowing example of sobriety at its worst, take the Brown Band. Please.

COLUMBIA
October 12, 1985

The Princeton University Band welcomes Freshmen Parents, and congratulates the Class of 1989 on being admitted. Just how did they get in? We'd like to know. Let's take an up-close and personal look at college admissions.

So ya wanna get into Princeton. Your GPA is good -- you've kept it up for four years. But let's see how well you score on your S.A.T. Forming an oval on the field, the Band invites you to darken us in with your #2 pencil.

(Narrative over music)

Question #1: If Gordon buys a dining hall for $9 million, and Malcolm buys a Residential College for $3 million, how much would you pay to have the Molecular Biology building named after you? Please show all work.

Question #2: Columbia is to victory as

a)

17 is to 49

b)

Garrett is to tact

c)

Lions is to Tigers

d)

Bears, oh my!

Stop. ("Jeopardy" music stops) Put your instruments down. (Band members do so.) Close your booklets. You will now have a short break before your next formation.

No application would be complete without the alumni interview. Does this ring a bell?...

Next.
What is your name?
Alfred E. Quagmire.
What is your quest?
Higher education and intellectual stimulation.
What is your favorite color?
Orange. No -- black! Aghhhh!

However, there's no reason to see the interview as Risky Business. In fact, it can be a learning experience for both parties involved. For the more experienced and well rounded students, the private administrative interview is in order. Applauding these more personally revealing sessions, the Band forms a magnifying glass and invites you to "Hey, Look Us Over."

You remember, don't you? It was April 16th, 4:15 p.m. You'd just gotten back from the big yearbook meeting, and mummy was fixing you an after-school snack of Campbell's tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. When there it was. (Band plays first bar of Beethoven's Fifth.) That big, fat letter from Princeton. Not everyone got a fat one, though. There were lots of people who had to read skinny little letters that began: "Dear Theodore: Every year Princeton University receives thousands of applications from highly qualified students..." The Band would like to take a moment to acknowledge our sympathies for all those applicants who couldn't meet the stiff entrance requirements: Madonna, Francis the Talking Mule, Snap, Crackle and Pop, Mr. Clean, GI Joe with Kung Fu Grip, and the Columbia Band. We commiserate with those who had to settle for Columbia. Sorry -- we hear you knocking, but you can't come in.

Of course it was hard to get in, but now you've got to pay to stay in. How can you beat the rising cost of a college education without being caught in the vice-like grip of financial insecurity? If you want to avoid the financial aid office, you could liquidate your assets or even drain your savings; but be careful, there are substantial penalties for early withdrawal. Forming the shrinking dollar of student loans, the Band offers this advice -- still don't think you'll be able to pay? Don't worry. If all else fails... Punt. Oh, no, Columbia! You can't even do that.

COLGATE
October 19,1985

I'm Harry Reasoner. I'm Morely Safer. And I'm Andy Rooney. These stories and more on 8 1/2 Minutes. Brought to you by the Colgate Band. Today, the part of the Colgate Band will be played by The Princeton University Band.

(Band is dressed as tubes of toothpaste, wearing white garbage bags and styrofoam cups on head.)

(in Andy Rooney voice)
Don't you just hate going to the dentist? First they make you sit in the waiting room and listen to bad Hawaiian elevator music, while you read five year old issues of Highlights Magazine. And what about those fishtanks? You know, the ones built into the walls. How do they feed those fish, anyway? How clean are their teeth? What happens when they die? When they finally bring you into the office, you have to sit on this stupid chair. They put this lead apron on you -- what do you use a lead apron for? Baking cookies in a microwave? Then they say they're gonna take some x-rays, and then they leave the room. What about your arms? Don't they absorb radiation? Of course, there is one good thing about going to the dentist -- don't you just love when he gives you the gas?

Playing Classical Gas, the Colgate Band demonstrates the correct way to floss.

While the Colgate Band sleeps, a pasty film covers their mouths. They wake with the worst breath of the day. "Morning." (Band falls down.) For those foul-mouthed Colgate Band members, four out of five Colgate alumni recommend that they wash their mouths out with soap. But they say:

(To the tune of "Supercalifrigilisticexpialidocious")

When we get that morning breath or chronic halitosis
Even though the smell of it is really quite atrocious
We've tried Scope and Listerine and even tried Lavoris
But no matter what we do alumni still abhor us.

But on a serious note, (Band plays a note) the Colgate Band has found that the cause of most oral odor is too many feet in one mouth, and offers a surefire deodorizing solution.

"Oh no! It's the Cavity Creeps!" (Smiley face turns to Mr. Bill face.)

The citizens of Toothopolis have not been brushing properly. They're leaving their mouths vulnerable to attack. Good thing they have Colgate with MFP. The Colgate Band would now like to demonstrate proper brushing technique, and reminds you that, if you don't clean your teeth after you eat, they may all come tumbling down.

Announcer

The Encounter

Guy

I was suffering from simple chronic halitosis. Heading to the Reserve Room for a long, hard night of studying, I popped a Certs in my mouth. Good thing.

Girl

I was heading back from the Student Center. I had just smoked eight packs of clove cigarettes and figured I needed a Certs. Good thing.

Guy

Oh! Excuse me! I didn't mean to knock your books all over Firestone Plaza.

Girl

Hey, you got your Molecular Biology in my Fluid Mechanics!

Guy

Well, you got your Parables and Miracles in my Economic Policy!

Announcer

Luckily these kids had just taken their Certs, the breath freshener with two, two, two tastes in one: tastes great and less filling.

Guy

Gee, your breath smells great!

Girl

Thanks. Hey -- you wanna invite me over to your place for a beer?

Guy

Sure! If you've got the time, I've got the beer.

And now, a band that doesn't know the meaning of the words "oral hygeine," those ambassadors of musical perfection, that paradigm of orchestral magnificence, those purveyors of high stepping sonic glory, great humanitarians and a close personal friend of mine, let's bring them out, ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band!

October 29, 2:30 p.m. The American Dental Association files a missing musicians report for the Colgate Band. (Band plays first bars from Dragnet Theme.) The FBI takes on the job of finding them. The Princeton University Band, that guardian of truth, justice, and the American Way, offers to lend a hand. Traveling to the nation's capital, the Band arranges a clandestine rendevous at the top of the Washington Monument with special agents from FBI headquarters.

The FBI tipped us off that the Colgate Band may have flocked to gay Pari for the annual quiche fest. Relentless in our quest, we hopped on the nearest Concorde for Paris. We climbed the tallest structure in sight, to get an Eiffel of the city. Although we never saw the Colgate Band, we vowed to continue our search, even if it meant spending "April in Paris."

Continuing its search, the Princeton Band followed a trail of empty beer bottles across the Atlantic, and found itself at the gates of the Budweiser brewery in St. Louis. After three weeks of intense searching, we determined that the Colgate Band was definitely not in the brewery. Out of leads, and out of beer, we've got the "St. Louis Blues."

HAHVAHD
October 26, 1985

Ladies and gentlemen, in an ongoing effort to provide an oasis of intellectual enlightenment in this desert of cerebral stagnation that is Cambridge, the Princeton University Band takes you on a trip through the very fabric of time, in search of academic acumen.

Deep within the annals of time, the Princeton Band has discovered the charred remains of the first Neolithic student course guide. A more vigorous search has documented this as evidence of the world's earliest fire. Credit for this discovery belongs to Bob the Caveman. Barbequeing brontosaurus burgers in his beautiful backyard, Bob beckoned his bosom buddy Bock. Bock bungled on a boulder and bounced into the barbeque, thereby creating the first Bock-burning. The tradition lives on. Taking its Cue from the Harvard Administration, the Band cuts the punchline to this joke, temporarily takes away all your alcohol, and says, "Come on Derek, who do you think you are anyhow?"

Speaking of holier than thou administrators, take Dean Moses. Please. With the advent of fire came Moses and the burning bush. But Moses didn't just randomly flirt with flaming flora. Plagued by water turned into blood, frogs, gnats, flies, pestilence, boils, hail, locusts, and darkness, he forced the Pharoah to smite his own first born, and, even more harrowing, send his second born to Harvard. Seeing the Babylon the wall, he hora'd out of Egypt and wandered around for forty years. In its epic and classic reenactment of the parting of the Red Sea, the Band says, "Holy Moses! Look at that Crimson Tide!"

Recognizing that a Harvard diploma is nothing more than honorary debris, the Princeton University Band exhibits its own academic laurels and proudly awards everyone in Soldier Field an honorary Princeton B.A. A degree by any other name is B.S. Habeamus Baccationem. Est ne tua filia octo decimo. Vidi, Vici, Veni. Admitto.

PENN
November 2, 1985

Attention K-Mart shoppers: Blue Light Special on the 50-yard line. This week's midterm break special: all the (?) you can buy.

How many times has this happened to you? You're innocently walking out of your fashionable inner-city high-rise dorm, when all of a sudden a brick falls on your head, and you have to walk into class with those embarrassing blood stains on your clothes again. Well Ronco, the conglomerate personal safety corporation which brought you the solar-powered flashlight, now presents the official Penn state-of-the-art safety-school helmet. Developed by caring professionals with the assistance of adorable, helpless, loving, cow-eyed stray dogs, they're guaranteed to withstand cinder blocks, large lead safes, and aerially deployed incendiary devices; but not the Princeton Offensive Line, or the Princeton Defensive Band. Order before midnight tonight and receive your complimentary, attractively packaged Penn acceptance letter. Forming a delicate piece of Penn lab equipment (a sledgehammer) on the field, the Band says, "How much would you pay for this?"

But wait, there's so much more. Isn't it just one of life's most frustrating feelings to be stuck on the Schuykill expressway and realize you are missing your Sociology 101 -- Intro to Crisis Management -- lecture? Well, never again will this happen to you with the Ronco Urban Assault Vehicle. Tested on the battle-ridden streets of New Haven, this household necessity is guaranteed to move through even the University Avenue detour. Order before the end of the game and maybe you'll make it home. As a special promotional bonus you get your very own vinylroof repair kit. Forming a detachable water cannon on the field, the Band plays "Princeton Cannon Song."

Hey moms and dads, how many children have you lost to thoughtless pranksters' practical jokes? How many hours did you waste ripping apart your children's Halloween candy this year? You could have avoided these needless wastes if you had been one of the proud owners of the Ronco Candy Safety Inspection Kit. Guaranteed to detect pins, needles, razor blades, mind altering substances, cyanide, scrapple, New Coke, Cherry Coke, Diet Coke, Classic Coke, Caffeine Free Coke, Caffeine Free Diet Coke (i.e., water), and your buddy and mine, HTLV3. Order now and never again worry about what little Johnny is eating, or where it's been. Satisfaction guaranteed or you receive a combination Ronco stomach pump/pocket pool table. Forming a pumpkin in living color on the field (do not adjust your sets) the Band plays the Munster Theme.

And now for something really useless, take the Ronco Red, White and Blue Precision Marching Band. Please. No, really.

WILLIAM AND MARY
November 9, 1985

In its ongoing effort to provide clean, wholesome, family entertainment, the Princeton University Band presents...William and Mary: A Love Story.

This is a clean, wholesome love story about a young couple from Virginia. Meet William. We'll call him Bill. Meet Mary. We'll call her Louise. It all started as a simple blind date. (Band puts on sunglasses and gropes.) It was love at first sight. (Band whips off glasses.) A whirlwind romance ensued. (Band scrambles in a circle.) They were inseparable. They were always seen together: at the malt shop, the theatre, the post office, the H. Gross Invitational Punt, Pass, and Kick competition, and the drive-in. Forming the back seat of a '69 Chevy, the Band fondly recalls those golden days of yesteryear -- holding hands and feeling groovy.

The romance quickly blossomed into true love. Bill and Louise, who we'll call Ethel, were a perfect match. Ethel had the brains, Bill had the brawn. Ethel had the looks, Bill had the money. Ethel had the fridge, Bill had the microwave. Ethel had the gin, Bill had the tonic. Ethel had the time, Bill had the beer. Ethel had New Jersey, Bill had you. They were perfect together. Finally Bill could contain himself no longer. Getting down on one knee (half of heart gets down on one knee) he popped...the question: "Will you Mary me, or Bill me later?" Ethel's reply: "Oh, Bill, you know I'm just a girl who can't say no."

The wedding day was fast approaching. At her bridal shower, Ethel, who we'll call Faith, received many lovely gifts: a toaster, a blender, a cuisinart, a mixmaster, and other assorted electrical appliances. What Bill got at his bachelor party took Alka Seltzer rid of. The next morning, he woke with a terrible hangover, shown here. But he still had fond memories of the night before.

William, who we'll call the conquerer, enjoyed the night before so much that he almost missed his wedding the day after. The best man was fashionably dressed in a light blue tux, the family in orange and black blazers.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two souls in holy bondage. Let us pray: Do you, William, take Faith, who we'll call Hope, to be your lawfully wedded wife; to love, honor, cherish, obey, lend credit cards to, and spank when naughty, until you appear on Divorce Court? (Male symbol answers "I do.") And do you, Hope, who we'll call Charity, take William, who we'll call confused, to be your lawfully wedded husband -- Please. No, really. (Female symbol answers "I guess.") I now pronounce you a small liberal arts college. You may kiss the trustees. (Two symbols meet. People in the audience throw rice.)

What married couple can ever forget their honeymoon? Certainly not William and Mary. They had hoped to stay at the Paradise Palace, lavishly equipped with heart shaped waterbeds, free flowing champagne, pink bubble baths, a ballroom, ski slopes, a miniature casino and pocket pool tables, sandy beaches, rolling hills, scenic views of Niagra Falls, purple mountain majesties, oceans white with foam, and other natural wonders. William, who we'll call absentminded, neglected to make reservations in advance, and had to take his new bride to the No-Tell Motel, where Mary promptly fell fast asleep. Forming her Rapid Eye Movements on the field, the Band sympathizes with Bill's plight.

Reservations weren't the only thing William forgot on the honeymoon. Nine months later the twins were born. Franklin and Marshall, who we'll call Washington and Lee, were William and Mary's "unexpected" bundles of joy. They grew up, founded their own liberal arts college, and everyone lived happily ever after. The End.

YALE
November 16, 1985

This just in: Feet Born In WaWa. Details at eleven. Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band presents a salute to...higher beings.

God means many things to many people. Here at Princeton, students can choose from a wide variety of campus gods. There's the god of one-room triples: Vicki Quinn at the Temple of Housing. The patron saint of partying is the porcelain god; and students looking for affairs can pray to the Right-Reverend Dean Lowe. Late night consumers can be seen making nocturnal pilgrimages to the Hoagie God, residing on Mount WaWa, and partiers needing restraint will be visited by Proctor Bob, the god of Discipline. Students seeking divine guidance, however, should go straight to the top: Princeton's own deity, William G. Bowen. And the Band recommends that supplicants talk to him -- he's all ears, shown here.

But enough with minor saints and dieties. Let's move on to the Main Man himself, Mr. Big, the Head Honcho, the buck really stops here, best-selling author, He was a smash hit in the Holy Land, He knocked 'em dead in Sodom, star of stage, screen and Sinai, in His only area appearance, a Superior Being who needs no introduction, a great humanitarian and a close personal friend of ours, let's bring Him out, ladies and gentlemen --

God, class of zero, is perhaps Princeton's greatest alumnus. Few know, however, that God was no saint during His college years. Oh no. Our little heck raiser was quite a devilish guy. When He took a study break, it lasted forty days and forty nights. He was kicked off the crew team for parting Lake Carnegie. He started His own eating club, Halo and Wings, and fed 180 people with two loaves of bread. And who could forget God's writing sample? Forming the Ten Commandments on the field, the Band says, "This represents His own work in accordance with University regulations."

Hear Ye, Hear Ye, Hear Ye. The Princeton University Band, as God's divine messengers on this good Earth, hath been sent to deliver unto you this cosmic message:

Few know that God almost didn't graduate. Her thesis, "Yale: My Attempt to Create Intelligent Life in a New Haven" was labelled a complete failure and it was only by pulling a six day all nighter that She ever passed Her finals. Those happy-go-lucky days far behind Her, God grew up to become Princeton's greatest alum. The Band would like to pay its respects to God and Nassau Hall -- perfect together.

CORNELL
November 23, 1985

Ladies and gentlemen, concluding its 1985 grand-slam sold-out tour of the Ivy League, that purveyor of all things good and just, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look through the mists of time, and goes back to the future.

The more things change, the more they remain the same. Nowhere is this adage more true than here at Old Nassau, conveniently located on the cutting edge of avante garde radicalism. Taking its cue from nature, the Band breaks out its crystal balls and envisions the Princeton bathroom of the future. See the years peel away like so many layers of an artichoke...1985, 1990, 1997, 2013, you get the idea. In every john, thermonuclear insta-hots will heat water to a tepid 10 million degrees -- but you can still make only a half a cup of coffee. Princeton will also catch up with the rest of humanity and put doors on the currently semi-private bathroom stalls. But some traditions never die. Illustrating the age-old ritual of the flash-flush warning on the field, the Band alerts shower takers everwhere.

Speaking of waste on campus, take Alexander Hall. Please. No, really. In addition to Richardson Auditorium in Alexander Hall, there will be Malcolm Staircase in Alexander Hall, leading to the John Paul Getty Balcony in Alexander Hall, and the Richard Woods ventilation ducts in Alexander Hall. But wait, there's so much more. Let's not forget the T.I. memorial urinal in the Sally Frank memorial men's room. In fact, the Band predicts that the only thing left unnamed in the entire building will be a doork-nob. (Which is hyphenated wrong on this printout, so don't use the word doorknob in your J.P.'s if you're going to script them, and remember, you heard it here first.) Forming the only part of Alexander Hall which is still part of Alexander Hall, the Band says, "I Hear You Knocking, But You Can't Come In."

Yes, the more things remain the same, the more they change. Who would have guessed that, somewhere in the future, University Counsel Tom Wright and Sally Frank would finally marry, after all those years of courting each other. Well, who are we to judge? And speaking of bells ringing, yet another time honored tradition will be lost as the university replaces the Nassau Hall clapper with a large digital watch. And when that watch tolls in May, students no longer permitted to store their furniture in Jadwin Gym will instead have to deposit it in Dillon Pool, to reduce the fire hazard. Forming spontaneous combustion on the field, the Band laments the loss of its favorite things.

But what will become of Princeton itself? Painstaking research and mind-expanding drugs have led us to believe that, with an endowment greater than the GNP of most nations, the university will develop its own thermonuclear capability, break off ties with New Jersey, form an independent country, and declare war on the Big Red menace. The Black and Orange Federation, BOF for short, needing representatives to the outside world, will select those ambassadors of musical perfection, The Princeton University Band. Now that's what we call future perfect. We would like to salute our fans (that's you, Murt, Bob, and Tom), fundraisers (that's you, Leo Juranik), feeders (that's you, Jim Lawson), friends and foes (that's you, Gilford, Connecticut police department). On behalf of President Jedd "I'm the One Who Goes to Jail" Wolchok, Drum Major Tim "Scruffy" Mistele, and Student Conductor Joel "Golden Throat" Anderson, this is your announcer Dave Shukan reminding you that it's just four days 'till Rocky IV, 32 days 'till Christmas, and 154 days 'till my thesis is due. Band, play us a song.