Rocket Boys: A Memoir (aka October Sky) Book

If there is one, just ONE thing that was monumentally historic in this book, a revealing glimpse into our culture's rich history and sociological mindset, it had nothing to do with rockets.

DID ANYONE ELSE NOTICE, THAT FIFTY YEARS AGO, PEOPLE WERE HOOKING UP IN BAND BUSES!?

Holy mother of french horns, it's ingrained in our history. I'm not talking to you, ex-cheerleaders belonging to the "'Twilight' fanclubs", you emo english lit majors arguing over poe. You couldn't understand.

Only a certain type of person--- a special combination of musicianship, athleticism and geekiness, if you will--- will truly comprehend the depth of connection I felt after reading Homer's elation at having Dorothy Plunk drift off to sleep on his shoulder while the bus plowed through West Virginia backcountry. That beautiful contentedness with the world, that feeling of satisfaction at the day's performance, the wind whipping through your hair, cuddled up for warmth with half the trumpet section as your dirty, poorly maintained and diesel belching bus careens through the night at the hands of some ill-trained and half asleep band booster.

*sigh*

I mean, serious relationships all over this country have been SOLD on late night band bus trips. Marriages made. Babies born (after the marriages, i mean. we're not cheerleaders, afterall). I'm willing to bet that thousand of American teenagers would never have logged thousands of solid make-out practice hours without this type of magical transportation.I just never guessed it had been around for so long. It's like discovering your great ancestors also signed in at the gym just to get a smoothie so their account would show they came more than three times a week and were actually using their membership. anyway, i digress.

solid book. can't beat the style of writing, it may be slow, but it matches his personality so completely you know it must be genuine. and somehow, for it, the pay off in the end is greater--- i was heartbroken to read the epilogue about dorothy, that she was even the first part of it at all.


homer, i really liked you, man. you should have known, the woodwinds can be a bitch. because i feel like we're friends, and it's never too late for a rocket scientist (you charmer!) ... you can NEVER go wrong with a percussionist.