Long Days to Long Island

Tuesday morning we woke to dripping skies, puddles and wet leaves. I took one peek through the blackout curtain, turned off my alarm and crawled back into bed. We had no bus ride until the run out, so there was no rush to get up and go out into the soggy world. Plenty of time to explore White Plains later, plenty of time we’ll need to fill.

An hour had been allowed for the drive to the Bronx concert; traffic is as much an unknown factor here as it is at home. The only guarantee was that there would probably be plenty of it. We arrived earlier than anticipated, but much of the extra time was spent in bus maneuvers as the buses had to turn around on the busy street and back down a narrow roadway with parked cars on one side, low hanging branches on the other.

I was curious to see the size of the audience; the previous night an invitation had been issued to the White Plains audience to attend the concert in the Bronx. When the doors opened to the public, instead of the surge of people hoping to find the best seat, there was a slow but steady trickle. There seemed to be a wide assortment of people, a little more unusual mix than our average audience.

When the Band entered the stage, I was relieved to see a larger audience than I had expected. Nowhere near a full house, by any stretch of the imagination, although they were a small but exuberant crowd quite vocal in their appreciation.

Wednesday morning, without even venturing out from under the covers, the light cheerfully glowing through the chinks in the curtains told me we had a bright, sunshiny maintenance day ahead of us. The Walking Club seems to be dwindling, and only Karen and I headed out into the biting wind and bright sun for our walk. Since we had a destination in mind, this suited us fine.

Karen’s father grew up in White Plains, so we were in search of the family homestead and other landmarks in his life. Map and address in hand we walked down Mamaroneck Avenue, through the downtown area and past the commuter train station. Just on the other side we found Battle Hill, an historic site dating back to the Revolutionary War. Before us we faced a steep hill in order to reach Washington Avenue. Luck was with me – Washington Avenue was only half way up the hill; right there on the corner stood the house of Mr. Grimsey’s childhood. Karen called her father to let him know we were there before we headed back down to the cannon monument and back into town.

My maintenance day ended in a Girls’ Night Out with the “Canale Girls”, as my husband calls them. John’s cousins took me out for the evening, dining at a wonderful restaurant in White Plains; Mulino’s. As is par for the course on Tour, we found ourselves seated at a table next to Chris Rose and his in-laws, and not far from a table with Leslye, Matt, and the Colonel. The food was excellent, the company even better…a nice way to end the final maintenance day of Tour.

Thursday Karen and I set out to explore in the opposite direction, but there wasn’t as much to offer. We found ourselves back on Mamaroneck Avenue but decided to head away from the train station. Soon we were back at the hotel, ready to pack up and move on to Long Island. Once in Commack, I was able to step out of Tour briefly for dinner with family and friends; my husband grew up in Commack, so I had dinner with John’s folks, the Wittmans, the Serenitas and Mrs. Barkin. Emilio’s, yum!

The concert was in Dix Hills, at Half Hollow High School East. We were pleasantly surprised to find not only a fantastic facility, but one of the best audiences we’ve had in a while. After the encore, I was starting to wonder if we were going to have to dig around in the folder for a march from the first half of Tour (or, as Liz pointed out, there’s always Hammersmith…).

Following the concert was the Tour Party, in celebration of all things Tour; time to relax, congratulate the promotees, congratulate the retirees, and celebrate the Marine Corps Birthday a little early. Each of the retirees were offered a chance to say a few words. Pat Corbett declined, but both Mark and Irv took advantage to pass along a few words of wisdom. After 30 consecutive Tours, Irv knows a lot about touring. I was happy to hear we have the same philosophy about Tour. While being away from home for weeks on end is not an ideal situation, what we are doing on the road is one of the greatest things we do in this organization – we take our music out to the American people. Irv holds the record for consecutive Tours, a record unlikely to ever be broken. Trox added up the time Irv spent on the road with the Band – five years.

(This made me do a little math. By the end of this tour, I will have spent 94 weeks of my career on Tour.)

Peeking out the curtains this morning, I found a dreary day, overcast skies and low clouds heavy with rain. Karen and I set out anyway, eyeing the sky, only to lose sidewalks a block or so into our walk. We headed for Target, deciding we could combine our walk with a little shopping. We made it back to the hotel just as the rain came pelting down. Timing is everything.

(Picture below is some of the Band members born after Irv joined the Band!)