Ain't Got No Rhythm

Last night I drove around a part of town I usually don't visit. There's nothing wrong with it. It's not the red light district or anything (Penasco doesn't have one of those), I just don't have a good reason to go except to say I went. I thought maybe that part of town might have some night life. It didn't. And I wasn't too surprised. My expectations have settled a bit this past month. Can you tell? Anyway, I made a loop back to a main street. My window was rolled down so I could hear them before I saw them. Snare drums. Lots of them. Too many to be that Navy drummer(s). But it was about 7:30 PM. What are a bunch of drummers doing outside this late? Then I saw them. They were marching. Or trying to. I've never been in marching band. Our high school band director expected blood from his students. I preferred donating my blood to the hand cracks of The Island or the Bridge Bands, our local climbing hangouts. But I still know a good marching band when I see one. And this was not one of them. I guess that's why they practice. They all wore reflective vests, which made them look like construction workers - construction workers with no rhythm. I thought it was amusing, so I took pictures. They turned out blurry. Sorry.