By Tim Hayes

Saturday, March 16, 2013 – a date that forever will be known (at least in my head) as “Time Warp Saturday,” and a day that I’ll always remember fondly.  Maybe because it fell between the Ides of March and St. Patrick’s Day, March 16 this year had something ethereal, magical, wondrous about it.  Allow me to explain.

While checking Facebook in the morning, I came across an entry from a guy I knew in high school.  Fellow members of the drum section, we marched alongside each other in parades and in halftime shows at the home football games.  He played the cymbals in the marching band, and I played the tri-toms.  He had posted a You Tube clip from a year or so ago, featuring our old band director, who could be seen leading a group of inner-city kids at an area junior high school.

Three seconds into this clip, and I was back in the band room, watching “Mr. B.” lead us, his baton twitching, his facial expressions contorting, his torso bouncing to the beat.  He’s got to be in his 70s these days, but he looked as spry and energetic as ever.  It felt great to see him at work doing the thing he loved most of all, all over again.

The band room quickly became the place of sanctuary and fantastic friendship in high school, not only for me but for scores – hundreds, in fact – of kids who played for Mr. B. over the many years he taught there.  For me, he stood head and shoulders above all other teachers for earning my respect, instilling a desire to meet his expectations, and providing a place where it was always safe to be yourself.  Plus, he was primarily a drummer, so the feeling of shared connections between me and Mr. B. may have actually been stronger than with a lot of the other kids.  At least that’s how it felt to me then, and even today.

Later in the day on Time Warp Saturday, my wife and I went to our local high school to see the annual musical, this year’s edition being the old standard, “Guys and Dolls.”  At dinner, I was talking about the fact that my high school did that same show when I was a senior, but didn’t think much more about it.

Until the curtain went up and the 2013 edition of the play started.

Immediately, I remembered every lyric and most of the lines, but more than anything else, I saw my old friends in the same roles from three-plus decades ago.  The play hadn’t changed, of course.  The songs sounded the same.  The dance numbers were a pretty close approximation of what our school did way back when. 

But the sensation of being back there, as my friends turned into Sky Masterson, Nathan Detroit, Sarah Brown, Miss Adelaide, and the rest of the gamblers and missionaries, somehow made the play even more enjoyable as the bunch of 16 and 17-year-olds carried it off in style the other night.  A great evening all around.

Karma threw me a curve on Time Warp Saturday, but such a nice one.  If nothing else, it reinforced something I’ve come to realize more and more as each year goes by.

A great teacher will always remain a great teacher.  A great collaboration will always remain a great collaboration.  And a great life will always remain a great life.  So many things to treasure, if you just take the time to think about them.  Count your blessings, everybody.  When you do, you’ll find that they’re innumerable.

Copyright 2013 Tim Hayes Consulting