502. And solo to it. (see above)
503. And make it sound decent. (see above)
504. And you're not in jazz band. (see above)
505. You have all 84 major, minor and natural modal scales memorized and can play them on cue (Ionian, Dorian, etc...).
506. You computer desktop picture is a picture of your marching band, and you can find yourself in the picture with little effort. (Second rank, third file)
507. You stay after school, solely for the purpose of playing the drum set without having the drum captain yell at you.
508. You get "SAX ARMY" printed on your letterman jacket.
509. Despite the fact your school doesn't have an orchestra anymore, you learn how to play cello.
510. You have a Percy Grainger t-shirt (mine is yellow). Mine's blue!
511. You spend four out of six periods in the band room during school.
512. The whole band is on your buddy list.
513. All-State auditions are a major social event.
514. You count jazz eighth notes in math class with the other jazz band kids... just for the fun of it.
515. You play air French Horn. Better than the french horns. And you play clarinet.
516. People get your attention by calling out your uniform number. (38 for me)
517. You tell your other teachers to call you by said number. (38 for me)
518. You memorize all the trombone chants. What? You have trombones that aren't stoned long enough to make up chants?
519. You memorize them in hopes of using them as your section cheer next year (see
above), and you secretly wish you were a trombone. 'Scuse me, but who in their right mind gets jealous of brass? (I jest because I love, remember.)
520. You yell out your section's chant even if no-one's backing you, and you don't feel embarrassed.
521. You only visit FanFiction.net to read the Marching Band section (in Misc)
522. You're still kicking yourself for missing that one practice where all the flutes played in tune with each other.
523. You are able to pick out and name all the different chords in your favorite songs (which are band songs anyway).
524. During silent reading time, you try to persuade your teacher to let you read your music.
525. You use your band teacher as your councilor, advisor, and shoulder to lean on. Word to the third.
526. Your pet(s) run away when you open your horn case.
527. You know the difference between a French horn and a mellophone.
528. You start looking in the other sections' boxes to see the quotes or interesting phrases in them.
529. You remember all of your director's strange anecdotes.
530. You trace back your family history with what instrument they played.
531. You don't need pain medication: just the memory of running drills numbs the pain.
532. You have stopped envying the pit for not having to march: their parts are much harder than yours.
533. It means something to have marched 180+ tempo. FLAMING LEGS.
534. You spend Friday night watching band videos.
536. You drive 550 miles to go to Scouts practice every weekend.
537-542: You know you're a band geek's kid when...
537. Your dad's best friend is your band director.
538. You've gone to so many concerts that by the time you're 3, you can direct in six-eight time.
539. Your dad organizes band competitions.
540. Your parents go to band competitions an hour early to save seats for everybody else's parent.
541. When you were four, you danced with the flag girls while
wearing a bikini for your dad's marching band when they played "Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini".
542. You could carry 4 music stands at once by the time you were six. Training 'em while they're young. That's the way to go, I say.
543. You start relating your horoscope to upcoming band competitions and events.
544. You don't look in the classifieds for cars. You're looking for a new private instructor.
545. You know how to insert the bocal of a bassoon into a trombone lead pipe to produce a "tromboon" (an instrument made infamous by PDQ Bach, sounding something like a badly pitched lawn mower).
546. A friend of yours, who is learning the bassoon, learns that if you finger the lowest note, and someone else sucks on the bell (like a bong), it produces the overtone series of unpleasant squawks, and subsequently runs around the music building/complex/suite yelling, "SUCK IT!" and shoving his bassoon in anyone's face. ...I am SO JEALOUS.
547. You have been removed from a "claimed" practice room by being lifted and thrown into the hallway.
548. You have your own practice room.
550. You enjoy scaring your dachshund by playing multiphonics on the saxophone.