Take a tour off and lose track of time...in some respects, the 2008 tour seems a lifetime ago; after a nice, quiet Home Guard, the year rushed by, crammed full of musical adventures.
Summers normally plug along with two concerts and a parade weekly, the extra chinks of time filled with funerals and ceremonies, our numbers somewhat depleted by summer leave. The 2010 summer season, unusually overloaded with a later-than-usual recording session, came to a grander-than-usual finale with the first ever Marine Band Alumni Concert.
More than just a reunion, over a hundred former band members came together for two rehearsals and two concerts with Col. Bourgeois. A lively reception followed the first rehearsal, and the last concert was preceded by a trip to the National Museum of the Marine Corps.
The Band has also entered the era of social networking; you can follow the Band on Facebook, Twitter, and Flickr now!
It's no wonder, then, that the end of the summer snuck up on me. Suddenly, I realized it was time to take out the Swiffer and dust off the blog. Imagine my surprise when I found my Blogger account was well over 90% capacity! Cindy On Tour is nearly out of room, largely due, I imagine, to the number of photos posted.
I decided it was time to explore other blog hosting options; once again I owe thanks to my daughter for introducing me to something new...through her, I found Tumblr. It's a bit of a learning curve for me (again), but it is a unique blog host, with easier photo posting, the ability to embed video, more immediate access by phone if needed (poor hotel internet service, it happens all too often), and some different features not available on other sites.
The Blogger version of Cindy On Tour will remain available, and links will be provided on the new Tumblr blog. True to its roots, the URL will still include tourspam.
And now, I invite you to explore the new Cindy On Tour...
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Cindy (Not) On Tour
Quiet, but not silent, the droning of a distant lawn mower and the persistent chirping of crickets create a gentle wash of sound as the soft afternoon light dances through the fluttering leaves outside my window. A faint, cool breeze floats in the window, carrying children’s voices and the jingle of tags as a neighbor walks past with her dogs.
Summer has somehow slipped away, leaving a perfect fall afternoon in its place. Morning brought a trip down to the harbor; John stood in line for breakfast at the café while I walked Chloe along the docks. The sunshine left a sparkling trail across the water as the ducks swam into Ego Alley, looking for the handfuls of bread scattered by small children.
I watched as the vendors raised their tents for the Fall Festival, sitting in the shade near the Market House while John finished breakfast. We wandered over to the Farmer’s Market along the water’s edge, making our way to our favorite stands; this one for tomatoes, that one for peppers and zucchini, pausing occasionally so Chloe and other dogs could touch noses. Our last stop is always the handmade pasta stand, so we can get the pasta home while still cold from the cooler.
Most years, a Sunday such as this would find me checking lists, running errands, and making general preparations for Tour, snatching moments to enjoy time with the family before the looming departure.
This year, though, is one of the rare years I stay home from Tour. Only my third real Home Guard in sixteen years (I don’t count the Year of the Elbow Surgeries), this Home Guard is a first for me in many ways. This is the first time I will not be a part of MITS (Music In The Schools) while on Home Guard, and this is the first time I will be home as an Empty-Nester. Jenna is in grad school in Ireland, and Jamey is a freshman in college this year.
In early September, the Band traveled to New York to perform in the Walter Cronkite Memorial at Lincoln Center. We left early on a Tuesday, heading straight to Lincoln Center for the rehearsal.
We didn’t have much music to perform, but several run-throughs were needed for sound levels and camera angles. Looking out into the hall, we could see the signs indicating seating for the VIPs.
The Memorial was Wednesday morning; the President’s participation brought about a high level of security, so we arrived several hours prior to the event. After passing through security, we found ourselves secured in the small cross-hall behind the stage, with only a curtain separating the dressing areas for men and women.
As often happens, the Band had the best seat in the house.
We were on stage for the entire event, even though we played only at the opening and closing of the memorial, but we shared the stage with all the speakers, able to look out at the audience and pick out the familiar public faces. The Cronkite family was in my direct line of sight; it was hard to watch them at times, the grief still raw.
After the hustle and bustle of an especially busy summer in the Rugolo household, September has been an unusually slower pace this year. The Home Guard/Tour Band split was last Monday; in other years this meant packing Jenna off to college while preparing for Tour rehearsals and getting Jamey settled into school.
The first day of the Split was my first full day of the Empty Nest. My original schedule had me out at the Pentagon in the morning, marching in an arrival ceremony, and performing a brief recital for after dinner entertainment in the evening. But, as so often happens, schedules change, and I ended up in a very quiet house, staring at the dog, while John was in meetings for the day.
Friday brought about a ceremony at the Pentagon in honor of all POW/MIA. Similar to an arrival ceremony, this would entail several speeches as well. Standing in one position for so long requires a few mental tricks that vary from band member to band member. Some compile menus or grocery lists in their head, some count people; in the past I have repeated the speech back in my head, one sentence at a time. The final speech, however, had my attention.
The Guest of Honor was Admiral Jeremiah Denton (ret.), a former POW, held in captivity for seven years and seven months, four of those in solitary confinement. Several times during his remarks, he broke down as he spoke of the suffering of the families of POWs and MIAs. It certainly put our stiff shoulders and numb toes into perspective as mere nuisances in an otherwise light schedule. Time spent away from the family on concert tours melts away into nothingness by comparison to what he and thousands of other POWs have endured.
As much as I love the opportunity to be home instead of away from my family, I will miss Tour. I miss being a part of taking music to America, seeing new places and faces, the musical challenges, and giving my music to others. Being on Home Guard will be a different kind of adventure, coupled with the challenge of learning how to live in my Empty Nest.
Summer has somehow slipped away, leaving a perfect fall afternoon in its place. Morning brought a trip down to the harbor; John stood in line for breakfast at the café while I walked Chloe along the docks. The sunshine left a sparkling trail across the water as the ducks swam into Ego Alley, looking for the handfuls of bread scattered by small children.
I watched as the vendors raised their tents for the Fall Festival, sitting in the shade near the Market House while John finished breakfast. We wandered over to the Farmer’s Market along the water’s edge, making our way to our favorite stands; this one for tomatoes, that one for peppers and zucchini, pausing occasionally so Chloe and other dogs could touch noses. Our last stop is always the handmade pasta stand, so we can get the pasta home while still cold from the cooler.
Most years, a Sunday such as this would find me checking lists, running errands, and making general preparations for Tour, snatching moments to enjoy time with the family before the looming departure.
This year, though, is one of the rare years I stay home from Tour. Only my third real Home Guard in sixteen years (I don’t count the Year of the Elbow Surgeries), this Home Guard is a first for me in many ways. This is the first time I will not be a part of MITS (Music In The Schools) while on Home Guard, and this is the first time I will be home as an Empty-Nester. Jenna is in grad school in Ireland, and Jamey is a freshman in college this year.
In early September, the Band traveled to New York to perform in the Walter Cronkite Memorial at Lincoln Center. We left early on a Tuesday, heading straight to Lincoln Center for the rehearsal.
We didn’t have much music to perform, but several run-throughs were needed for sound levels and camera angles. Looking out into the hall, we could see the signs indicating seating for the VIPs.The Memorial was Wednesday morning; the President’s participation brought about a high level of security, so we arrived several hours prior to the event. After passing through security, we found ourselves secured in the small cross-hall behind the stage, with only a curtain separating the dressing areas for men and women.
As often happens, the Band had the best seat in the house.
We were on stage for the entire event, even though we played only at the opening and closing of the memorial, but we shared the stage with all the speakers, able to look out at the audience and pick out the familiar public faces. The Cronkite family was in my direct line of sight; it was hard to watch them at times, the grief still raw.After the hustle and bustle of an especially busy summer in the Rugolo household, September has been an unusually slower pace this year. The Home Guard/Tour Band split was last Monday; in other years this meant packing Jenna off to college while preparing for Tour rehearsals and getting Jamey settled into school.
The first day of the Split was my first full day of the Empty Nest. My original schedule had me out at the Pentagon in the morning, marching in an arrival ceremony, and performing a brief recital for after dinner entertainment in the evening. But, as so often happens, schedules change, and I ended up in a very quiet house, staring at the dog, while John was in meetings for the day.
Friday brought about a ceremony at the Pentagon in honor of all POW/MIA. Similar to an arrival ceremony, this would entail several speeches as well. Standing in one position for so long requires a few mental tricks that vary from band member to band member. Some compile menus or grocery lists in their head, some count people; in the past I have repeated the speech back in my head, one sentence at a time. The final speech, however, had my attention.
The Guest of Honor was Admiral Jeremiah Denton (ret.), a former POW, held in captivity for seven years and seven months, four of those in solitary confinement. Several times during his remarks, he broke down as he spoke of the suffering of the families of POWs and MIAs. It certainly put our stiff shoulders and numb toes into perspective as mere nuisances in an otherwise light schedule. Time spent away from the family on concert tours melts away into nothingness by comparison to what he and thousands of other POWs have endured.
As much as I love the opportunity to be home instead of away from my family, I will miss Tour. I miss being a part of taking music to America, seeing new places and faces, the musical challenges, and giving my music to others. Being on Home Guard will be a different kind of adventure, coupled with the challenge of learning how to live in my Empty Nest.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Home, Sweet Home
The quiet woke me this morning; no voices in the hallway, no pipes gurgling, no fan chugging away in the corner. The room wasn’t dark with thin streaks of light piercing around the edges of room-darkening curtains. I woke in a room bathed in a golden glow of morning sunlight, surrounded by quiet. I smiled and snuggled down in the blankets. I was home.
The last two days of tour passed quickly in spite of the empty hours that had seemed to stretch endlessly between bus rides and concerts – so close and yet so far.
Thursday night the sponsors treated us to a lovely catered meal before the concert, refilling the tables at intermission. The concert was in a lovely old hall filled with columns, detailed woodwork, and a beautifully done ceiling. The stage extension had some mobility issues, but Charles and Karl managed to decrease the amount of movement with gaffer’s tape. Excellent stuff, gaffer’s tape; when the sole of my shoe decided to part ways with the upper during intermission, Sgt. Martins was able to put it back together with a little strategically placed gaffer’s tape – it held through the last concert.
The final concert was played on Halloween; we had an excellent crowd in spite of the holiday. Rich Heffler came to the edge of the stage and was swarmed by most of the clarinet section and those of us that knew him before his retirement. The crew was introduced after intermission; we can’t thank them enough for all they do for us.
Following the concert, we had one last pizza party. It was time to say goodbye to tour, and to pay tribute to Gail on the last night of her last tour. She gave the first of what she said would be the “longest goodbye ever”, since she isn’t leaving for another seven months.
Saturday morning started early; buses departed for D.C. at 0800 for an expected arrival at the Annex around 1230. It was a quiet ride, most people sleeping, finishing movies, 
or listening to music during the first part of the ride. Once we hit commuting distance from the Annex, people began to stir, making phone calls and packing up the last minute odds and ends around them.
As pulled through the Annex gate, we were greeted by beaming spouses and eager children with signs to welcome home Mommy or Daddy. We unloaded quickly, lines of people moving on and off the bus like ants, anxious to load vehicles and get home. The buses still needed to stop at Bolling everyone would be reunited. Goodbyes and hugs were given swiftly, anxious to get home and enjoy the rest of the weekend before reality and make-jobs set in on Monday morning.
Another Tour complete; it is now the differences will become obvious in comparing it to the old seven and a half week tours. November without a HomeGuard/Tour split – Birthday Balls and funerals shared equally, PTADs never before undertaken, a trip to Singapore for the Colonel and the Principal players. The White House Holiday Season is before us, and the Inaugural season heralds a new administration. The details of the immediate future are unknown, but time will march on with the Marine Band holding firmly to its place in History.
The last two days of tour passed quickly in spite of the empty hours that had seemed to stretch endlessly between bus rides and concerts – so close and yet so far.
Thursday night the sponsors treated us to a lovely catered meal before the concert, refilling the tables at intermission. The concert was in a lovely old hall filled with columns, detailed woodwork, and a beautifully done ceiling. The stage extension had some mobility issues, but Charles and Karl managed to decrease the amount of movement with gaffer’s tape. Excellent stuff, gaffer’s tape; when the sole of my shoe decided to part ways with the upper during intermission, Sgt. Martins was able to put it back together with a little strategically placed gaffer’s tape – it held through the last concert.
The final concert was played on Halloween; we had an excellent crowd in spite of the holiday. Rich Heffler came to the edge of the stage and was swarmed by most of the clarinet section and those of us that knew him before his retirement. The crew was introduced after intermission; we can’t thank them enough for all they do for us.Following the concert, we had one last pizza party. It was time to say goodbye to tour, and to pay tribute to Gail on the last night of her last tour. She gave the first of what she said would be the “longest goodbye ever”, since she isn’t leaving for another seven months.
Saturday morning started early; buses departed for D.C. at 0800 for an expected arrival at the Annex around 1230. It was a quiet ride, most people sleeping, finishing movies, 
or listening to music during the first part of the ride. Once we hit commuting distance from the Annex, people began to stir, making phone calls and packing up the last minute odds and ends around them.As pulled through the Annex gate, we were greeted by beaming spouses and eager children with signs to welcome home Mommy or Daddy. We unloaded quickly, lines of people moving on and off the bus like ants, anxious to load vehicles and get home. The buses still needed to stop at Bolling everyone would be reunited. Goodbyes and hugs were given swiftly, anxious to get home and enjoy the rest of the weekend before reality and make-jobs set in on Monday morning.
Another Tour complete; it is now the differences will become obvious in comparing it to the old seven and a half week tours. November without a HomeGuard/Tour split – Birthday Balls and funerals shared equally, PTADs never before undertaken, a trip to Singapore for the Colonel and the Principal players. The White House Holiday Season is before us, and the Inaugural season heralds a new administration. The details of the immediate future are unknown, but time will march on with the Marine Band holding firmly to its place in History.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Almost Home
The geography of Tour gets a little hazy for me, even with Andy’s tour map. I stopped looking at it long ago; the single sheet is frayed beyond recognition. On past Tours, Max would whip out his laptop each day, pull up his handy Atlas application and try to figure our routing without the help of the Tour Coordinators’ directions. Michigan morphed into Ohio somewhere along Tuesday’s drive. It cheered everyone to be one state closer to home.
Tuesday’s concert was a run-out from Maumee, Ohio. Long enough for most people to fall asleep as we hummed down the highway, the downshifting on the exit ramp had everyone stirring and reaching for jackets. Looking out the windows, we saw farmland with barns and silos, grain elevators, and livestock. We knew the concert was a gym job, but barring the grain elevators and barns, there didn’t seem to be anything large enough to hold a band concert.
The clouds hung low to the horizon, but a thin strip of brilliant orange glowed just below the clouds. Gradually a town emerged in front of us, with American Four Squares and Victorian homes giving way to an elegant County Court House centered in the Town Square of Bryan, a gem of a town in rural Ohio. Played to a packed gymnasium, the end of the concert was something of a milestone – only one of each program left before we reach home.The longer drive and run-out gave us a free day in Maumee. Most people spent the day in the work-out room or in the pool, crossing the road to visit the Meijer (stocking up for Friday where we’ve been warned about “slim pickings” for dinner), catching up on phone calls, and taking care of business.
Wednesday’s concert was just down the road in Toledo. It was the last performance of the “C” Program; we say goodbye to Festive Overture, the horn concerto, Variants on a Medieval Tune, and The Perfect Fool. Michelle and I are happy to be done with “the note”.
Traditionally, towards the end of Tour, the MasterGunny’s take the crew out for a nice dinner on a Sunday evening. The shorter Tour and the scheduling of the Pizza Parties created a conflict, so the Crew Party was held after the concert Wednesday night. We gathered in the lobby once they returned from the concert site and chatted over pizza and ice cream cake. 
The evening ended with Charles and Sgt. Madachik in a little contest to see who could keep their full arm submerged in the tub of icy water used to chill the beverages.People were pretty anxious to move on from Maumee – we had pretty much run out of things to do in the area. The drive to Youngstown was quiet, most people dozing or listening to their iPods. The sunshine was warm through the windows, but patches of snow caught our eye as we took the exit for Youngstown.
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Last Page
We’re on the last page of the itinerary now; well, next to last, but only because the day with the drive home didn’t quite fit. People are counting the “lasts” – last Sunday, last Monday. We haven’t made it to the “last” of any particular program yet, but it won’t be long now. I’m not sure when the last TAD happens, but I think Joe, Michelle, Betsy, and Ivy will win the “last TAD” award for their appearance at Baldwin-Wallace College on Friday.
For most people, “lasts” are about getting home. For Gail, she is counting the “lasts” of her career. Even though she won’t retire until June, this is the last tour of her career with the Band. Each night has been increasingly difficult for her – the audiences here in Michigan have been more responsive to the patriotic tunes, and she is near tears when they stand for God Bless America. She has already asked the rest of the flute section to play a little louder on Stars and Stripes her last night because she isn’t sure she’ll be able to play. It certainly won’t be the last time she plays Stars and Stripes, but there’s a heightened level of emotion on Tour not present at regular concerts.
For our final night off, in Muskegon, we were treated to an outrageous thunder storm and lightning show, with rain, sleet, and wind gusts that had trees bending over. It made the decision to stay in for the evening a no-brainer. I had hoped for an early night, but the slush filled parking lots of the shopping center behind the hotel became the drag strip for trucks and cars, revving their engines beneath my window around midnight. This went on for quite some time; it was after 1:45 before quiet reigned outside my window. For a while I gave up and leaned on the window sill to watch, half hoping to see a little demolition derby action. The late night and lack of sleep had me turning of the alarm; sleep was needed more than a walk.
The high winds continued to departure; the skies alternated between ominous clouds and brilliant flashes of sunlight. The skies were bright as we arrived in East Lansing, so I dropped my luggage in the room and left to explore the surrounding neighborhood. After walking awhile, I ducked into CVS to pick up a few small items. No more than fifteen minutes later I walked out the door to find myself standing under dark skies, a mix of rain and hail falling on my head. I trotted back to the hotel to drop off my purchases and meet Michelle for dinner. By the time we left the hotel, the sun was shining and fine, misty rain fell.
The concert was at the Wharton Center for Performing Arts on the MSU campus. Large and spacious, it was a treat to play the B program in a nice hall, and the program change to substitute La Fiesta was a refreshing change of pace.
The winter-like temperatures have me wondering if it was a good idea to leave the winter coat at home. Fortunately, I have plenty of layers to wear under the raincoat, and walking keeps me warm.
For most people, “lasts” are about getting home. For Gail, she is counting the “lasts” of her career. Even though she won’t retire until June, this is the last tour of her career with the Band. Each night has been increasingly difficult for her – the audiences here in Michigan have been more responsive to the patriotic tunes, and she is near tears when they stand for God Bless America. She has already asked the rest of the flute section to play a little louder on Stars and Stripes her last night because she isn’t sure she’ll be able to play. It certainly won’t be the last time she plays Stars and Stripes, but there’s a heightened level of emotion on Tour not present at regular concerts.For our final night off, in Muskegon, we were treated to an outrageous thunder storm and lightning show, with rain, sleet, and wind gusts that had trees bending over. It made the decision to stay in for the evening a no-brainer. I had hoped for an early night, but the slush filled parking lots of the shopping center behind the hotel became the drag strip for trucks and cars, revving their engines beneath my window around midnight. This went on for quite some time; it was after 1:45 before quiet reigned outside my window. For a while I gave up and leaned on the window sill to watch, half hoping to see a little demolition derby action. The late night and lack of sleep had me turning of the alarm; sleep was needed more than a walk.
The high winds continued to departure; the skies alternated between ominous clouds and brilliant flashes of sunlight. The skies were bright as we arrived in East Lansing, so I dropped my luggage in the room and left to explore the surrounding neighborhood. After walking awhile, I ducked into CVS to pick up a few small items. No more than fifteen minutes later I walked out the door to find myself standing under dark skies, a mix of rain and hail falling on my head. I trotted back to the hotel to drop off my purchases and meet Michelle for dinner. By the time we left the hotel, the sun was shining and fine, misty rain fell.
The concert was at the Wharton Center for Performing Arts on the MSU campus. Large and spacious, it was a treat to play the B program in a nice hall, and the program change to substitute La Fiesta was a refreshing change of pace.The winter-like temperatures have me wondering if it was a good idea to leave the winter coat at home. Fortunately, I have plenty of layers to wear under the raincoat, and walking keeps me warm.
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