"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!