Look like you care

This year, my college band director, Dr. Johnny Long, is celebrating 60 years as an educator in the state of Alabama.

One of his memorable sayings is, “look like you care when you play”.

I found myself thinking of him recently, as our band prepared for competition. To the students who seemed like they were adrift in space while I was charming them with one magnificent teachable moment after another, I could only hear those words – “look like you care” – in my head.

And our students, once again, proved that they do indeed care, as all of the Tallassee bands scored an Excellent rating at contest last week.

The Divas show choir from Tallassee High School spent the past weekend in the icy frozen tundra that was Indianapolis, Indiana.

I would say that I went along for the ride, but through an amazingly complex sequence of events, my wife and I wound up renting a car from Hertz to make the trip separately from the chartered bus.

Despite the memorable television commercials, I didn’t see O.J. Simpson racing through an airport terminal when I signed the dotted line to rent the car.

We left Alabama on Thursday afternoon, and had no difficulty with driving until we reached northern Kentucky.

Then, as we approached Louisville, the roads became very slippery, as a massive ice storm tightened its grip on most of the Midwest that evening. The large bridges that span the Ohio River stood silently frozen, as I was behind the steering wheel while we crossed them.

My wife, Sena, alternated between sprinkling Holy Water and threatening divorce while we crackled across those dark, frosty roads. Snow, sleet, frozen rain, and pellets of salt blew across the windshield, making driving miserable. The words “white knuckle suspense” are barely adequate to describe the sheer terror I felt as I drove 35 miles per hour down the interstate. Transfer trucks roared past us like we were tied to a post beside the road.

Trying to be The Man, I made very soap opera-esque statements such as, “I would never let anything happen to you,” and so on, knowing deep down inside that I had little control over this 2008 Pontiac we had rented.

But we made it into Indiana safely, and the weekend wound up being a beautiful, snowy, postcard-perfect snapshot of Midwestern life. And that’s where the “look like you care” point was driven home in such dramatic fashion.

Everywhere we went – the restaurants, the shopping centers, and particularly the high school where the choral competition was being held – there was genuine friendliness and good old American values. Flags on every porch. Average Joes clocking out from work to go bowling. The school itself was awe-inspiring, and resembled a modern college campus.

And for those things, the drive, scary though it was in the beginning, was all worth it.

Our choral director, Mr. Cunningham, continuously places our students in national-level competitive situations every year – not to show off how wonderful our choral program is, but to allow our students to experience listening to better groups, and to give our students a chance to see the world outside of Tallassee, Alabama. He always makes it happen in a positive way, and everything always turns out for the best. And for that, I am truly grateful to be a part of such a department.

Reality set in when we were on the way home, and stopped at a Taco Bell in Birmingham.

My wife and I, on the search for the Chilito – strangely missing from the menu at most Taco Bell restaurants in the Montgomery area for the past few years – chose to stop there for our last meal on a long trip.

Right away, we looked at one another and said, “welcome home”.

The guy behind the counter was more worried about adjusting his doo-rag and making inane wisecracks to his co-workers than he was about treating customers with any kind of respect.

I noticed that an elderly man was in front of us in line, and the Taco Bell employee was cutting him off mid-sentence while he was placing his order, telling him about items that were unavailable. Then, he turned to a co-worker and made some lengthy remarks about something that really didn’t matter, and took our order.

What we thought would be a quick meal turned out to be one of the longest stops on our excursion. We waited at a table for our number to be called, and it took way too long despite the large number of people working in the restaurant.

Our man behind the counter, instead of getting the food ready, was laughing like a hyena over nothing, then took a cell phone call that everyone in the building could hear. We finally got our food, but couldn’t get back to the house fast enough.

I was reminded of that famous Johnny Long phrase. Look like you care. And you know, what I learned on this show choir trip is that, in many places, people at least try to act like they do care about whatever job they are performing, no matter what that job may be.

In this era of Presidential election bickering, asinine celebrity gossip, ridiculous reality shows, and a culture where rudeness is considered a virtue, Dr. Long’s gentle words hit home more now than ever.