Final Preparations

Before joining the Band, most of my travels came in one to three week spurts. Growing up, family vacations were generally camping trips, and most of the packing involved tents and sleeping bags, jeans and sweatshirts, and cooking equipment. My mother handled all the packing for our family of six, and everything and everyone had to fit in or on the station wagon. In high school, I spent three weeks in Europe with an orchestra, and I was allowed one suitcase weighing 30 pounds or less. My mother taught me how to pack light, and I am eternally grateful.

On my first tour, in spite of my mother’s fine example, I basically threw all the clothing I owned into a large suitcase and a garment bag. With two small children and a husband you are leaving behind, there really isn’t time to think it through. I was sharing a seat, so I didn’t have room for anything but the most necessary of items under the seat. My flute bag went in the overhead space, and a Rubbermaid container fit under the seat and held a few paperbacks, some cross stitch, and some travel packs of tissues; the container and contents were purchased on the road. I soon learned my life would be easier if the suitcase had wheels, so I only took it off the bus every fourth day and swapped out the clothing in the garment bag. A much lighter load, it was a less than ideal solution as I would invariably leave something necessary in the large suitcase, or the day I would need to take it in would be the day there would be no elevator.

I tried a variety of suitcase combinations for the next few tours, but it wasn’t until I had elbow surgery that I really needed to think harder about packing lighter for the entire tour. I did some very thorough research on suitcases and settled on a small 24 inch wheeled suiter with a matching overnight bag. Nearly all my clothing fits into the suitcase, with a heavy coat and sometimes an extra suit hanging on my snap hook. The overnight bag holds my athletic gear and my cooking equipment. I have graduated to two Rubbermaid containers over the years, holding extra toiletries, non-perishable food items, and books. For the tours that have colder temperatures I will often bring an extra packing cube with heavier pants and sweaters for the second half of tour.

I spent most of yesterday organizing and packing. Thursday was filled with squeezing in all the final odd jobs at the Annex; job ticks for September and the end of year report, a last minute practice part, adding the flute peg to my trunk, and other small details. Thursday evening was set aside for my Tour haircut – a little extra short to make it through Thanksgiving without being tempted to pull out the nail scissors.

Friday was the day I ran all the errands I had hoped to run Thursday in order to leave Friday free. One big loop around Annapolis, hitting the Naval Academy Pharmacy, the library, the dry cleaner, make a return, pick up alterations at the tailor, and finally the grocery store. Lunch out with my husband at one of our favorite lunch spots, and then off to pick up Jamey and some friends for an afternoon at our house playing Halo3 while I ran loads of laundry. Friday night is always Pizza Friday, followed by a quiet evening together, John and I catching up on the latest Top Chef episode while Jamey played Halo3.

Saturday was set aside for packing because John and Jamey were working at the NJROTC Orienteering meet most of the day. Rubbermaid bins with Tour paraphernalia came out of storage, with hot pot, bowl and utensils getting a fresh scrubbing. I pulled up my packing list on the computer and began assembling all the items going on the road. The great room soon looked like I was getting ready for a garage sale as I pondered how to consolidate so much “stuff” to fit in my suitcase and the Rubbermaid containers. Like solving a puzzle, it falls into place once the key pieces have a home.

Nearly everything is packed now, with a few minor details to take care of today, and I have plenty of time to spend with the family. It will pass far too quickly, and tomorrow will be here before I am quite ready for it. I keep reminding myself this is the last time I will leave on a seven week tour, but it doesn’t seem to help much. I still have to survive this one.

Living by the List

The list is getting a little grubby and worn, and even though I am checking things off the list, it doesn’t seem to be getting any shorter. Everyone is feeling the crunch as we near the end of Tour rehearsals.

Yesterday we received our Tour Brief from Operations (Fred), the Tour Director (Andy), and Captain Rakers. We received our post-Tour schedules from Operations, including the various deadlines that occur while on Tour. It is easy to lose track of time on the road. Andy briefed us on the itinerary and any details to note, such as dry cleaning of uniforms, time changes, maintenance days, and en route concerts. Captain Rakers covered the practical side of Tour; instrument repair, security, dress code, practice hours, and various other matters that make Tour smoother. Trox gave the Tour Newbies a briefing of their own, as did our Stage Manager, Charles.

A lot of information to digest; more things added to the list. I may have to copy it to a new piece of paper.

Early morning today found me stopping at the Navy Yard Valet on the way to the Annex to pick up the last batch of cleaning. Concert Full Dress Coats had to be “dressed” with shoulder knots, collar emblems, medals, and ribbons; buttons had to be replaced that had been removed for the cleaning. Skirts folded over the hangers under the coats and placed in the hanging bag. Shoes, hose, blue t-shirts, and skirt hangers fit into the bag’s pockets, leaving just enough room for the emergency items; sewing kit with extra buttons, ribbons, stars, and dammits; a travel roll of toilet paper, Febreze, and a mini first aid kit, to mention but a few items needed at the concert site. Very few women are assigned to trunks with drawers, so all the odds and ends essential to the traveling female have to fit in the pockets of the hanging bag. Thankfully I wear my hair short and don't have to bring hair accessories.

Rehearsal began with more minor housekeeping details and a library briefing by Mike. Program rundowns and a complete listing of programs by concert site were passed out for placement in the folders, and a last minute edition substitution for the Blue folder. We made another recording for the audio section of the web site, and still finished rehearsal a little early today.

Band members scurried out of the room, some to squeeze in appointments, others to load the uniform trunks or take care of practice parts and page turns. I checked over my uniforms and other essential items and carried the very heavy bag upstairs to load it in my assigned trunk. Some trunks are already loaded, some just getting started.

The list doesn’t end there. In addition to preparing for Tour, some Tour personnel are preparing for events that will occur while we’re on the road and beyond Tour. The Clarinet Quartet has several masterclasses and recitals while on the road, and many other small ensembles are preparing for similar programs. Tom stayed after today’s rehearsal for a Dixie Land band rehearsal, and poor Leslye is spending countless hours in the Library proofing the audition packets for an English Horn audition in January and an Oboe audition not long after. I am afraid to ask what she has left on her list. I should count my blessings.

Tour Trunks

You would think after eleven tours the impact would lessen. I know to expect the trunks – tour can’t happen without them. They carry the uniforms, the instruments, all the equipment needing protection from the rigors of Interstate Highway travel and poorly kept back roads. By the time they appear in the band hall like bears from winter hibernation, we have been in tour rehearsals for nearly two weeks. The bus seating chart has finished making the rounds – tour is inevitable at this point.

But there is something about walking in to the Band Hall and seeing the great gaping mouths of the trunks – it is this event that makes me catch my breath. My stomach clenches, my breathing becomes labored, and there is a moment where my hands feel quite unsteady.

By the time I make my way to my chair, I have myself under control, but throughout that rehearsal with the audience of trunks, the strange little flutter in my heart never quite settles. Time is short, it tells me.

The excitement and anticipation of the first rehearsals fades and the remaining rehearsals are tinged with apprehension. I am leaving my family behind, that little voice tells me.

You would think, after eleven tours, I would be ready for the trunks.

Crunch Time

This time last year I was having unexpected oral surgery; it delayed my tour departure by five days and my first concert appearance by seven (even then I was unable to play every piece). I spent the first half of tour eating soft foods and weaning myself from painkillers, the last half struggling to feel comfortable with my playing again. A follow-up surgery in July had me back on a liquid diet and off the job sheets after the Band’s trip to San Antonio and TBA. Since then, I have been a frequent flyer down at the WNY Dental.

Early this morning I was once again at the Navy Yard, for my final pre-Tour follow-up appointment. The specialist had been very emphatic that I be seen before departure, so I squeezed in yet another appointment during what is always the busiest week before Tour. When he saw me sitting in the waiting area in the wee hours of the morning, he waved me over and asked, “Are you here to see me?”

Well, yes.

“So why am I seeing you today?”

Because you told me I had to be seen before Tour.

He hurries me in to the treatment room and motions for me to sit. He pokes a gloved hand into my mouth with no caution for my lips and what later needs to be a good embouchure, and he tells me it looks fine and that I didn’t really need to get the x-ray I had been told to get prior to the appointment. You know, the reason I was there before the sun had risen.

There’s nothing like a visit to Dental to add a new level of challenge to a rehearsal.

The good news is when I return from Tour, we’ll be ready for the final step in the process, and by the end of January I should have a tooth to attach to this summer’s implant (which, if his previous predictions are anything to go by, means I’ll have one by Easter).

I am really looking forward to chewing on the left side. It’s been a year.

Ma Mere l'Oye

Two and a half weeks of rehearsal sounds like a lot of time, but when you are preparing six programs, there doesn’t seem to be enough time to go around. The vast majority of time has been spent on repertoire for the first half of Tour with second half works slipped in here and there. There are only four rehearsals remaining, and one or two pieces for the second half have yet to be rehearsed.

It is a delicate balance; adequate rehearsal time to achieve the high level of performance expected without exceeding the musicians’ endurance and ability to absorb the vast amount of material.

The first Tour concert isn’t really the beginning of Tour. It is the culmination of a lot of planning, preparation, and hard work, and I don’t mean two and a half weeks of Tour rehearsals. This tour began last year, probably somewhere around the time we departed on the 2006 Tour. There are many people working behind the scenes whose job is done before we pick up the Tour folders; Andy Linden, our Tour Director, our Public Affairs Office, the Tour Coordinators, and the Library, just to name a few.

Take the library, for example. When we pick up our folders at the end of August, we are picking up the results of several months worth of effort.

In June, the Library received six programs from Colonel Colburn and Captain Rakers. Much of the music will be found in the library, but other pieces must be acquired through rental or purchase, and often pieces need to be arranged or transcribed. Each program (A, B, or C) is handled by a team of two librarians, one for the first half and one for the second half.

In July the librarians are busy preparing each piece, making sure each director has a copy of the score and that at least one original of each part is retained by the library. During the first week or two of August, the folders are built. Mike Ressler starts looking for volunteers from the Tour Band to work as Tour Librarians. By the end of August, all the folders are ready to distribute to the musicians.

The program roughs are formatted into a finished concert program format. By the time we sit down to our first rehearsal, the programs have already been distributed to the Tour Sponsors.

On Thursday, we had the Tour Librarian briefing. I’ve been a Tour Librarian since 1994, my second tour with the Band. I’ve graduated from passing out folders and taking care of scores to being Mother Goose, or Library SNCOIC.

This year my flock of librarians will be Ellen Dooley, handling the conductors’ scores, and Gina Guhl, Lauren Miner, Jennifer Paul, and Paul Mergen taking care of the folders and collecting programs.

Christmas in September

For many years, the mid-point of Tour would bring an announcement from bus captains regarding White House Christmas ornaments. These are the ornaments produced by the White House Historical Association, commemorating past presidents, events, or organizations affiliated with the White House. My first White House ornament featured the Band during the presidency of James Polk.

Every year, Beth Schaefer would collect cash and checks from the touring members of the Band and send our order to Ops. The ornaments would be waiting for us when we returned to liquidate our travel orders. There were generally some grumblings about the inconvenience of dealing with this on tour; not everyone had a checkbook available to them on the road, and often there were no ATM’s for days.

When Preston joined the Operations Office, he overhauled the ordering process. Near the end of summer he makes the necessary contacts to facilitate our continued deep pricing discount; ordering begins in August, and all orders must be turned in before the end of the first week of tour rehearsals. This allows enough time for the ornaments to arrive before we depart on tour, leaving us one less detail to worry about on the road.

This is no small task; just this year, the band placed an order worth $9,200.00. When the shipment arrives, Preston sends out a notification email and posts a sign on the board. Just show up in Ops, and he’ll count out your ornaments and even bag them for you. It couldn’t be easier. The hard part is remembering where you put them while you’re on the road.

The Twilight Zone

“There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call The Twilight Zone.”

I always think of this time before Tour as The Twilight Zone. We are a little less than half way through tour rehearsals, yet everything starts moving so fast at this point, we will be boarding the bus before we know it. The number of days before departure is shrinking, but the to-do list seems to be growing.

I managed to knock a few things off my list today. Following the conducting portion of today’s Assistant Drum Major auditions, I spent the rest of my morning overhauling my uniform locker. My change of season dry cleaning needed to be finished; clean the last of the whites and ceremonial coats from the summer season, and finish the pre-Tour dry cleaning before the uniform trunks arrive. My Service B shirts need the chevrons changed before I return in late November, and my Service A blouse needs new chevrons and an additional service stripe. I had drawers to purge of accumulated detritus of bygone Pat Openers, faded t-shirts, worn hosiery, expired hand warmers, and leftover buffalo jerky found buried beneath the expedition weight long underwear. Cleaning my locker was hardly a chore; Kristin kept me company by reorganizing her locker at the same time.

Arriving at home, I found two boxes waiting for me on the front porch. The largest was my shipment from Wild Idea Buffalo Company, with ten pounds of ground bison and four pounds of bison stew meat. (For those that may not be aware, bison is lower in fat and cholesterol than chicken breast. It is illegal to give bison any growth hormones, and this particular ranch field dresses their meat, so no bison ever see a slaughterhouse.) Now I can prepare and freeze chili, stew, bourguignon, meatballs, and meatloaf for John and Jamey to eat while I am on Tour. I know what I’ll be doing this weekend!

The very small box was what I had been looking forward to the most – my order from Minimus! I was thrilled by the small size of the box. Finding room on the bus for all the little goodies is not going to be a problem. I have enough Miracle Whip packets for tuna salad and chicken salad, sweet pickle relish, tiny bottles of olive oil, little packets of parmesan, Dove cleaning cloths (for the really hot concerts), a little bottle of laundry detergent, and my unexpectedly favorite discovery of organic natural peanut butter in single serving packets. No sodium, one gram of sugar – and no refrigeration required.

My husband laughed when he saw the box full of little packets, but he absolutely howled at the peanut butter. He has never quite understood why this choosy mother doesn’t choose Jif for herself, and apparently he thinks I have taken my OCD tendencies to a new level. On the other hand, I had to laugh when I read the bottom edge of the packet:

WARNING: May stick to roof of mouth.

Amazon and Uncle Sam

While I am not a dedicated Room Camper hauling a suitcase full of cooking apparatus and bulk supplies of Ramen Noodles, rice, and dried soup, I am a member of the Hot Pot Club. A Hot Pot is handy to have on the road for little things like hot chocolate when the weather turns cold, or a light dinner when your only choice is the Huddle House next door, and your roommate has returned to tell you the restaurant ran out of meat. (Ask Susan Rider, if you don’t believe me.)

My morning routine on tour begins with a four mile or so walk, followed by a leisurely breakfast in my hotel room. Sometimes I’ll have yogurt and fruit, if there was a grocery store along the route back to the hotel, but more often than not, I whip up a nice hot bowl of stick-to-your-ribs oatmeal with my trusty Hot Pot. My favorite brand is Uncle Sam’s Oatmeal with Whole Wheat Flakes and Flaxseed. (I avoid seafood on tour, thanks to a few unhappy bouts of food poisoning on previous tours, so I have to get my Omega-3’s elsewhere.) I usually stock up on a few boxes before leaving and pick up what I need along the way.

This year, though, I have been unable to find Uncle Sam’s anywhere. The local grocery stores stopped carrying it, the commissary doesn’t carry it, and even the Uncle Sam’s website was unhelpful. I checked out many other brands, but all were lacking something, be it the high fiber content, the flaxseed, the low levels of sodium and sugar, or they had something added I didn’t want. (Picky, picky, I know.) I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to re-think my traditional tour breakfast or settle for something less.

But Amazon to the rescue! Lo and behold, Amazon had a case of Uncle Sam’s Oatmeal with Whole Wheat Flakes and Flaxseed for not a lot of money, and I qualified for free shipping, thanks to a book I was ordering for Jamey. The book arrived on Saturday, so I knew the oatmeal couldn’t be far behind.

When I climbed the porch steps this afternoon after rehearsal, there was my case of oatmeal sitting in front of the door. In “case” anyone was wondering, there are only six boxes in a case of oatmeal. Each box has eight packets, which, if you don’t want to do the math, totals 48 packets. More than enough to get me through Tour, since I don’t restrict myself entirely to oatmeal, but not so much that I’ll be finishing it when the next tour rolls around.

For those of you who blanched when I mentioned oatmeal for breakfast, while I don’t buy the artificially flavored and highly sugared instant oatmeal, I doctor my very plain packet for my own gourmet instant oatmeal, much like what I would make from scratch at home. No added salt, no added sugar, very tasty, and very filling.

Cindy’s Hot Pot Cuisine
Room Camper Oatmeal

1 packet Uncle Sam’s Oatmeal (with Whole Wheat Flakes and Flaxseed)
4 dried apricot halves, diced
1 Tbsp. dried tart cherries
1 Tbsp. sliced raw almonds
Allspice, Nutmeg, or Pumpkin Pie Spice to taste
½ Cup boiling water

So Kira – maybe the next Marine Band Cookbook can have a section of “Recipes for the Road"!

Singing the Blues

Something about Fridays brings a sigh of relief. It doesn’t matter if you’ve had a busy week or an easy week, there’s just a noticeable shift in mood. For me, there was a lot going on this week, so it feels good to be Friday.

The week started with the clarinet audition prelims and , both in one day. Tuesday we were out the door for the White House bright and early, and Wednesday we began to cycle through the three programs for the first half of tour. It was Friday, so it must be Blue.

I arrived earlier than usual today, because not only did we have muster and a promotion ceremony, the Blue folder (C program) contains some of the more technically and mentally demanding music for me.

The Aegean Festival Overture demands fierce concentration with the mixed meters, intricate dovetailing, and uneven manuscript. I have some nice solo sections, but my part looks like a Geometry project with all the lines and triangles drawn in to aid in deciphering the manuscript in the more intricate mixed meter sections.

Thankfully, the Colonel put some cuts in the Carnevale di Venezia. I enjoy many of the variations, but one can have too much of a good thing. The soloists all shine in this piece, and I get to enjoy some quirky little piccolo snippets. Betsy and I share a duet variation that would earn me a pretty penny if I was paid by the note.

We read a new piece by John Williams, For New York (A Tribute to Leonard Bernstein). Little bits and pieces of Bernstein favorites crop up when you least expect them. I think this is one I will need to analyze further. Maybe it will grow on me.

Hammersmith is more than standard repertoire, it is almost required repertoire. People love it, people hate it, people have played it more than they care to count, and for some it is a new and unusual piece. I usually mark my parts with each date or tour it was performed – this is one I stopped noting long ago. That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy it; I do, actually, even though it is fraught with all sorts of opportunities for disaster. Maybe that’s why I like it. The opening of the piece is dark and otherworld-ly, and then suddenly the piccolo enters as though playing in a parallel universe. (I always wonder if the audience thinks I’m on the wrong page.) The final Poco Adagio has a very twisty little piccolo solo that is a fingering nightmare, but a good challenge all the same. There’s a reason we put Hammersmith on nearly every flute audition.

The best part of El Salon Mexico is the last twelve bars – G Major arpeggios up to a high B, the second highest note in my “practical” range. Guaranteed to deafen anyone within reach, but oh, so much fun to pop out.

Sara is singing the Harold Arlen Songbook, with tunes like Get Happy, Blues in the Night, and Lose That Long Face. They are perfect for her voice and range, and she’ll have the audience in the palm of her hand every time she sings them. Her encore is Over the Rainbow, and she gets my Kansan Seal of Approval.

Clipboard Report: Trox tells me only 3/8ths of the Tour Band has signed up for a seat after three days with The Clipboard in circulation. People do take their seat selection seriously.

Finger Clickin' Good

White folders were on the stands today; Program B (B-1, if you want to get technical). And this year, the folders are truly white, not that creamy ecru color we had for so many years. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but the true white really fits the whole Red, White, and Blue scheme much better.

Just looking at the run-down sheet, I can tell this is going to be my favorite program for the first half of tour.

The solo (it’s more of a trio) is Escapades, the suite from the movie Catch Me If You Can. The first of our finger-snapping works on tonight’s program, it is fun to play, and even more fun to watch and listen to Steve and the two Glenns. I think the entire band has a good time with this piece - it will be a real crowd pleaser on this tour.

Paul Lavender’s arrangement of the Symphonic Dances from West Side Story has been a hit every time we performed it this year. Since we cut and paste the flute and piccolo parts to work better for the section (okay, better for me), I can relax and enjoy the ride, finger snaps, “Mambos!” and all.

I always enjoy Vientos y Tangos, and once the ensemble is comfortable and can settle in to the tango mood, it will be very effective. I just wish I had a little more to play in my part.

A new vocal for Sara; Jonathan Elkus orchestrated the Ives’ Song Set Memories: Very Pleasant and Rather Sad. It’s a delightfully quirky set of songs, filled with snippets of familiar pieces we’ve played in another form. Looking at the faces around me, I could see it was receiving some mixed reviews, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Elkus has a terrific way of exploiting unusual aspects of the piccolo that I appreciate.

I actually have a real-for-sure tacet this program – these are few and far between for me. There’s no piccolo part on Russlan and Ludmilla, which opens the concert, so possibly, for the first time in my career, I won’t be on stage for the Opener and National Anthem. I imagine I'll have some momentary panic with the first few "Onstage!" until I get used to the idea.

Off and Running

Wait, don’t touch that mouse! There are no trips down Memory Lane today. I’ll be Chatty Cathy instead, or whatever the modern day equivalent might be.

The Tour and Home Guard split started today; I don’t know what Home Guard had on the books (a common side effect of the Split), but the Tour Band was off and running with the first Tour Rehearsal.
I like that we begin rehearsals one program at a time instead of shuffling through all the folders during each rehearsal. Not only is it easier to keep the music in the correct folder, but I can get a rough idea of the pacing I will need for the concerts, and practice accordingly. Each rehearsal this week will feature one of the three programs. Today was the Red Folder, Program A.

Just before rehearsal started, John Troxel announced the Passing of the Clipboard for seat selection on the buses. Lisa had the honor of being first to receive The Clipboard.

Nothing like starting the rehearsal with a Db piccolo part to transpose, is there? Powhatan’s Daughter is a hoot, especially the Indian Tom-tom strain. The expressions of those unfamiliar with the march were priceless.

Chris Rose’s percussion solo presents a few ensemble challenges, and other than needing earplugs, I will really enjoy playing that one all the way through tour. Chris is a phenomenal musician and fun to watch play.

Persichetti’s Divertimento is in our standard repertoire. I always have such mixed emotions about playing it, though. It is a great piece with a lot of fun piccolo parts, but I have just enough personal baggage and negative history with it that it will be a challenge for me. My goal for tour is to wipe out the negative memories and to relax enough to enjoy all the movements for a change.

The Devil and Daniel Webster is so new to the Band we only received the parts last week. There are some parts so wickedly awkward, I will probably have to make a deal with the Devil myself, just to find decent alternate fingerings. The Bass Clarinet part is amazing, and Jay played it like he’d had it for months. The piece also uses two alto flutes, and Ellen and Heather sounded like one alto, one you could actually hear.

Between pieces and on the break, people would cluster around the possessor of The Clipboard. Some were just curious about the process, some obviously plotting a strategy to sit near friends. Some of the newest people smirked at the seriousness with which seat selection occurs. (Give them a tour or two…oh, wait, this is the last seven week-er…) As I was packing my instruments at the end of rehearsal, John Norton handed me the clipboard – a new record! I’ve never received it on the first day of rehearsals before. I must be getting old.

I had hoped to sign up for my “usual” seat, but, while it was available, I saw an opportunity to sit in a seat with a clear view to the front without having to be in the front, thanks to the “theater seating” on these new buses. I’m a little curious to see who signs up across the aisle – Deb and I always try to sit across from each other, but she is not on this year’s Tour. I’ll miss her, but I know she is needs to be home this year.

A Moment of Silence

It was the third concert of Tour, our first Theater concert. The first two concerts were a bit hazy; most of us, musicians and audiences alike, were still in a state of shock. But the third concert was the beginning of what would become a pattern.

The stage lights were hot and bright, the dark of the theater engulfing the audience. It was the end of the first half of the program, and the piece was Carmen Dragon’s setting of America the Beautiful. It opens with a tympani flourish and a sweep of sound from the band; then the melody, rich with lush harmonies.

I am sitting, counting rests, when I hear a soft sound coming from the audience. As I peer into the darkness, I realize the sound I hear is the soft patter of the seats folding up as the audience comes to its feet, person by person, as though choreographed. I swallow, trying to get rid of the lump forming in my throat. I turn back to my music, concentrating harder on the rests I really don’t need to count, but a new and different sound has me peering back into the darkness.

What I hear is a soft humming, as the audience begins to hum along, some murmuring the words. I have to blink hard to keep the tears that are forming from running down my cheeks. When it is time for me to play, I am thankful the piccolo part is in the lower register where I can’t be heard.

That was nearly six years ago, on the Tour following the horrific events of September 11. The memory of that concert, and the ones that followed, came rushing back to me today as I played the same piece, this time on the balcony of the White House for the sixth anniversary of 9/11. It has taken a long time to be able to play this piece without tears.

The weather was fitting for such an occasion, overcast and heavy with humidity, yet with a soft breeze lifting the pages of music. So different from the day six years ago, a day that began with the crisp blue skies I used to associate with the game days of college football and marching band, and more recently with the imminent departure of Tour.

Like every American old enough to remember the events of September 11, 2001, I remember the day with great clarity. The morning light filtering through the sheer curtains fluttering with the gentle movement of the cool morning air, the feeling of a lazy morning, puttering around the house in my pajamas while getting ready to meet Sue at Henderson Hall for lunch before the All Hands Address by the Commandant; the perfect day before the onset of Tour rehearsals.

The ringing phone posed no threat until I saw the caller ID – it was my father, of the generation that never makes daytime calls unless there is an emergency. I snatched up the phone expecting to hear of an accident or worse only to hear the relief in his voice that I was home, and was I watching TV? America is under attack, he said, the World Trade Center has been hit, the Pentagon may have been hit. It is Osama bin Laden, said my father. He told me to turn on the TV.

In disbelief, I ran down the stairs, turned on the TV, and stood, horrified by what I saw. Time stood still as we watched the events unfold like a bad Tom Clancy novel. Phone calls were made and received; Sue, safe at home, Operations telling us to stay home until further notice, Jenna, in a panic with all the other students with parents working at the Pentagon.

Until she called, we had assumed the kids were safely oblivious in their classrooms. A class at the high school, however, had been watching a news show as part of a class activity and word had spread. Jenna, aware of my plans to be near the Pentagon, had rushed to the Orchestra director to use his phone to call and see if I was still home.

Only then did we notice the silence that descended with the halt of all commercial air traffic. The eerie stillness was broken only by the helicopters and jet fighters flying around the State House and over the Naval Academy.

Today the moment of silence was filled with street noises and birds, a world that goes about its business even while remembering the past.

"Metairie"

It’s a bit of a hike from Annapolis to the foothills of the Shenandoah mountains, but it is worth every minute and every mile to spend the day at “Metairie”.

Nearly every September since I joined the Band, Colonel Bourgeois has invited the Band out to his log cabin in the shadows of the Shenandoah. My first year, I had been in the Band roughly two months and was about ready to depart on Tour for the first time. It was a cool, drizzly day, my children were not yet six and two, and I really didn’t even have names of my fellow band members straight. My son, Jamey, not yet much of a talker, silently followed the Colonel about his tasks as he stoked the fire or swept puddles off the covered porch. The Colonel would turn and see Jamey, standing mutely with his hands clasped behind his back, and invite him to help hold the poker or the broom. It wasn’t until we said our goodbyes that Jamey smiled and waved from the security of my arms and whispered “Bye-bye, Colonel”.

When Jamey was almost four, he learned how much the Colonel liked gingerbread. Jamey insisted we make his favorite gingerbread men for the Colonel’s picnic that year. Jenna, Jamey, and I made a gingerbread man to represent each of the officers and drum major (complete with mace), plus a free-form Chesty for Mr. Hurley, who’s bulldog Molly was the current barracks mascot. The kids decorated each one accordingly, down to the color of the uniforms. (Let’s just say black frosting is not very appealing.)

The Colonel was tickled, and playfully told Jamey he would have to bring gingerbread every year. Jamey, being the literal child that he was, remembered this every year and insisted we bring gingerbread for the Colonel. (More often than not, the Colonel would spirit it away upon arrival, and I would lose yet another Rubbermaid container. Thank Heaven for Gladware.)

This year the weather was hot, hazy, and humid. As we rounded a bend for a view of the mountains in the distance, we could barely make out the farthest peaks. Humid, indeed.

When the Colonel saw us come around the corner of the house, he called to Jamey, laughing, “Did you bring my cookies? If you didn’t bring them you can’t stay!” Jamey smiled and held up the container (Gladware) of gingerbread cookies. The Colonel laughed and gave him a hug, only this time Jamey was the one bending over to hug the Colonel.

The numbers are no longer as large as the early years of the picnic, but it is still one of the best ways to while away a September afternoon. Many former band members still come, and some of the newer members come who only know the Colonel by reputation. All are made welcome. The Colonel always makes his fabulous jambalaya, and everyone brings a dish to share. As always, the desserts outnumber the side dishes, and the cold drinks are plentiful. There are chairs scattered in the shade, and possession of the hammocks is hotly contested among the small fry hoping for an adult to help swing it into the tree branches.

Dogs wander freely from person to person, looking for someone to scratch that persistent itch, occasionally pausing near the small child holding a hot dog temptingly at a convenient height. And, as if it were a tradition, one child will be the pied piper inadvertently leading others into the neighboring field that is home to the bull, who, luckily, is just far enough away to be oblivious. This usually generates a fair amount of activity on the part of the parents.

The picnic is a great time to catch up with friends, to watch the younger generation make friends, and to relax before the pace picks up. As the shadows begin to lengthen, it is time to hit the highway. The drive home always seems so much longer than the drive out, but the air conditioning feels good on my face after the humid, still air of the afternoon.

Room Campers in Paradise

Before leaving the house for Tyson’s on Wednesday, I made an online purchase that pleased me even more than a successful trip to L.L. Bean. I recommend the web site to any Tour Band member, especially the Room Campers. (I am not a full-blown Room Camper, but a low sodium diet is much easier when you prepare your own food.)
Once upon a tour, I remember Max Cripe looking for individual creamers that needed no refrigeration. He was successful in his quest, but the minimum order was a rather large box – enough creamers for several Tours. I was looking not for creamers, but Miracle Whip in individual packets, much like the ketchup and mustard packets found at fast food restaurants. I enjoy a tuna salad sandwich now and then, but I really detest carrying a cooler on the road – way too much weight, mess, and bother – so I do without on the road. Store-bought tuna salad sandwiches are usually nasty, not to mention they always put celery in them and nothing ruins a good tuna salad sandwich faster than celery. But with individual packets of tuna available, I thought surely I could find Miracle Whip and sweet pickle relish in single serving sizes.

It was my good fortune to stumble across the web site http://www.minimus.biz/. The company, family owned, carries single serving, travel size and single use sizes of just about anything you could imagine, from salad dressing to lotion, Miracle Whip, laundry detergent, dried milk, parmesan cheese, olive oil, stain remover, poison ivy medication, organic peanut butter and more. None of the food items require refrigeration. Prices range from $.05 on up, depending on the product.

You name it, they probably have it. NASA uses this company to send condiments and other items into space. Minimus also features military care packages, designed by troops in Iraq.

Jackpot! Perfect for the OCD among us (myself included). You don’t even need to be a Room Camper to benefit from this. The best part of this web site is that you order only what you need – no industrial sized boxes – and shipping is free if you order more than $20 worth of stuff. And this stuff won't take much of the precious storage space on the bus.

Bus Points

The week between the last summer concert and the first tour rehearsal is always nice and deceptive. A week sounds like such a nice long time, but somehow goes so quickly. (Granted, I only had to make one appearance at the Annex this week, so I can't complain.) I was prepared for the planned activities of the day; muster, the Barracks-wide post-96 urinalysis, etc., but I didn't expect to see the series of pages John Troxel had posted on the bulletin board.

It's time for the Bus Points.

During rehearsals for my first tour, I wandered in to the lounge and noticed a paper with columns of names and numbers. It didn’t make sense to me, so I asked the first person I saw.

“Oh, those are the Bus Points,”

Bus Points?

They didn’t make sense to me then, but they make more sense to me now. The computational system is easy enough to explain to Outsiders, but explaining the "why" is a little more difficult. Most people laugh and want to know why a group of adults require a point system for seating; why can't the band just load the bus every day and sit wherever they want?

I used to try to explain how much stuff goes on the road with you, and it can’t all go underneath the bus. While one can, to a certain extent, shop along the way as needed, there is no guarantee the preferred brand will be available. Grocery stores can be few and far between, and even if one is not a dedicated Room Camper, everyone usually likes to have certain snack or drink items on hand. Occasional items, like laundry supplies, are better off stored on the bus; certainly no one wants to haul any more weight than necessary on and off the bus on a daily basis. Many of us bring a box of books and continue to buy them along the way. So, with all that stuff, sitting in the same seat every day becomes an issue.

When I joined the band, the seats were assigned according to bus points. The only input allowed was a preference for Bus 1 or Bus 2, and even then there was no guarantee you'd be assigned to your preferred vehicle. The current system allows members to choose their seat based on the point rankings. Obviously, the newest members don’t have much choice by the time the seating chart lands on their stand, but I think most people prefer having some say.

While I often having the feeling that I never really got off the bus, I like that I have been able to sit in basically the same seat for the last three or so tours. One side of the bus generally has more leg room, some overhead compartments lose space to air conditioning equipment, and if you need to hang coats and clothing items on your handy-dandy Snap Hook, it helps to have a window without a divider in it. I may move up a little as Bus Points allow, but I am generally very content to be in my “regular” seat.

Once upon a time, the front of the bus was reserved for the most senior of bus point holders. The seat behind the bus driver was a symbol of longevity and endurance. To those of us in the back of the bus, the front half was also fondly referred to as the “Toe Tag” section of the bus. Interpret that as you will.

I now seem to be sitting in that region of the bus. Hm. And the seat behind the driver is no longer the first to go during sign-ups.

Trox is so amazingly thorough, he even puts up a "map" of the bus, complete with measurements for leg room, head room, storage, and just about every detail one might conceivably need to plan the most efficient use of your personal bus space. Of course, some of us plan more than others. Some of us thrive on planning.

The fun part of Trox's display is the bus photo collage. He includes photos of the drivers, the bus interior and exterior, even some of the amenities (all seats have cupholders this year), like the curved entry stairway and purple and teal upholstery and trim. Much more cheerful than the charcoal upholstery of past tours.

As fun as it is to see the photos, it is another item on the checklist of reminders that Tour is fast approaching. Suddenly, the week between the last summer concert and the first tour rehearsal seems to be over.

Let the Games Begin

On your mark, get set, go! Tour shopping has begun in earnest. I honestly don’t have that much to do, but there is a certain amount of tradition involved in my tour shopping routine.

Every year Tour shopping officially begins at L.L. Bean in Tyson’s Corner. Every year in early September, Sue Zaffke Bour and I meet at L.L. Bean minutes before opening at 10:00. Since school is already in session, my shopping is limited to school hours, and the hefty trek around the Beltway means starting early. It also doesn’t hurt to arrive early, because a shady parking spot is a must since my car’s air conditioning is on its last legs.

After we’ve worn out our welcome in L.L. Bean, we head into the mall to check the directory and see what stores are still there and what’s new. (I really don’t spend much time shopping, let alone make the trek to Tyson’s – it takes me over an hour to get there. I had already made one trip this summer to help Jenna shop for her trip to Ireland.) We decide on an early lunch at the Asian Bistro and then wandered back into the world of retail.

It was not a big shopping spree – I have most of what I need for Tour as far as clothing is concerned. It’s nice, though to have a new top (that packs well and doesn’t wrinkle) or sweater to save for the day you need a bright spot. I try to save the Retail Therapy for later in Tour. I am happy with the tops and sweater I found, and Sue is tickled to find the pair of shoes that have eluded her for nearly a year.

Back to the Beltway and in to Annapolis just in time to pick up Jamey from NJROTC Drill Team. Home to left-overs – pasta salad, anyone?

Be Careful What You Wish For

It happens every year; the Labor Day 96 is announced and there is a collective sigh of relief at the thought of four days of time to relax before fully moving in to Tour mode. Labor Day weekend is a great time to hit the Farmers' Market, spend some time outside, grill a few meals, relax with friends, and maybe even hit a sale or two for some Tour items.

When an unplanned trip to New York became a necessity, I jokingly suggested it would be an excellent opportunity to finally return some furniture to New York that has been sitting in a storage unit since our move a year ago. I was tired of paying for the space and had tried to get John to schedule a trip up several times over the year. Be careful what you wish for!

John thought it was a great idea, so suddenly any free time last week was spent running down a one-way truck rental. Friday was spent unloading the storage unit and packing the box truck; after an early dinner we hit the road with Jamey, Chloe and I following John and the truck up to New York and out to Long Island. We pulled in the driveway at 10:15, took a short break, and proceeded to unload the truck into the basement. Mission accomplished.

After spending Saturday with John's extended family, we hit the road early Sunday. We took the scenic route down through the Eastern Shore, something we don't ordinarily do because of Sunday Beach Traffic. On the drive, John decided to call neighbors and put together a last minute cook-out for Labor Day.

We unloaded, and after a quick lunch, headed to the markets for provisions for the cook-out. Monday morning was spent in food prep and speedily cleaning the house, which had been left strewn with packing materials and odds and ends Jenna left behind.

We had a marvelous meal of miniature crab cakes, marinated peppers, tomatoes, and mozzarella, buffalo tenderloin, hamburgers, pasta salad, corn on the cob and field green salad, followed by fruit tart and chocolate cake for dessert. Good company, good food, and an early evening for all.

So, we managed to squeeze most of our long weekend in to a single day. I am thankful the 96 included the day following Labor Day so I had a little time to recuperate. The sales and tour shopping will have to wait!