Noise

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When you find yourself part of a marching band that consists of a drum and a triangle, you find yourself contemplating the greater truths of life. Such as "No wonder I will be deaf by the time I am 34." So then you might try hitting the triangle so that it doesn't give off as much clang, but alas, that won't go unnoticed, and the drum major will turn around and strictly instruct you on how to hit it so that you get the most clang for your bang.

And then perhaps you will be playing with lincoln logs, and in between knocking over towers and banging heads with the logs, the drum major will again strike up a strong beat on the overturned storage can (Whose bright idea was it to put lincoln logs in a metal can?) and will want you to stay close so that you can observe his perfect form.

And then you will begin to wish longingly that you worked with lawn mowers, vacuum cleaners, or leaf blowers, where it is perfectly acceptible to wear ear plugs.

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