Since I was nine years old, I have been carrying and moving musical instruments and equipment.  At first it was small, just my little plastic Bundy clarinet in its little green case to and from band.  A smart move for me because quite frankly, I have no upper body strength.  This worked just fine until high school where a uniform came into play.  Now I was carrying my instrument (now a saxophone in a large grey case because my band director said it made more sound than a clarinet for marching band), my uniform, my shoes and my hat box which held a huge Q-tip shako.  Not much changed in college, although now the hat was a “cowboy” hat so it was easier to carry and the “shoes” were rubber slip ons to go over your regular shoes.  I thought it was finished.  Then I married a band director.

Now I was working with flags and running them across the field setting them out.  I was helping him set up and tear down chairs and carrying stands for concerts.  I’m pulling tympani up the hill to the band room from the lawn concert.  I’m moving acoustic shells for contests held at the high school.  Good thing I was being paid for some of this.  You know, this is the kind of thing you don’t get trained for in methods classes or in marriage counseling.  No pastor ever sits down with you to make sure you’re okay lugging instruments around or setting up drum major podiums for your band director husband- to-be.  Otherwise I might have thought twice about it!

So then I became a music teacher, but decided to become a choral/general music teacher, so I didn’t have to lug around instruments anymore, right? No such luck.  I’ve gotten pretty good at pushing pianos, setting up risers, putting together platforms and setting up sound systems.  Again, no methods class ever taught me how to set up a sound system and avoid feedback.  I was taught about arias and art songs and oratorios, none of which I use with my students.  But a lesson on how to set up risers and sound systems might have been nice.

But then there is my own personal roadie.  The guy who shows up to just about every program and concert I have.  The guy who starts tearing down equipment while I’m still talking to parents and giving kids hugs.  The guy who sometimes has everything put away before I can get back to helping.  Like tonight.  By the time I finished talking to parents, the cords were wound up, the speakers were put in the bag and everything was ready to go.  It’s not that I can’t do it by myself.  Some nights we both have events to cover and he can’t be there.  But when he can, I’m grateful to have my roadie.

But isn’t this the perfect analogy for a great marriage?  Being there for each other when we can be and not making a big deal about it?   Learning new things to be a help when needed and pushing yourself to do things you haven’t done before?  I have to admit I’m starting to feel like I’m getting too “mature” to keep moving some of the heavier stuff,  but just like that good marriage, my roadie can tell when I need that extra help and I do my best to be available when he needs me.

As with any relationship, these experiences have helped us grow.  Not always pretty, not always smooth, not always without some whining on my part, but always a learning experience that helped us grow as a couple.  I’m not sure I appreciated these at the time,  but I wouldn’t trade any of it now.  After all, where would I be without my roadie?