Reunion 2026: The NMA Is Underway.

 

I'm on the sixth floor of the Doubletree. It's boring up here. That's why I'm heading down below: the 2026 reunion of the Navy Musicians Association is not boring.

Yesterday, our Board of Directors and stalwart volunteers did most of the work that precedes a reunion. Gear must be moved to rehearsal areas, stands, and fronts set up. Computers and bling must be arranged in the Registration Room. It really is a lot of work, it's mostly done, and we can all be thankful for those who come early so we can all enjoy our time together.

Last night, we had a pre-reunion jam session in the lounge. The place was packed, and the band was hot. Such is the case when Jim Hayward picks up a tenor sax. But Jim wasn't the only one packing heat. Rick Jebavy pushed the band from the drum set, Don Junker sat at the piano, John Clemmer played a counterpoint on the alto flute, and, oh yeah, I sat in on bass. I almost lasted half an hour.

This year's reunion schedule is more varied than usual. Today, the dance band will play in the morning, the concert band in the afternoon. Tomorrow, we'll reverse that. This schedule balances the needs of both bands so we'll have time for a Friday tour of the Naval School of Music. I did three tours there as a student and spent three years on the staff; I'm looking forward to revisiting the scene of the crime. 

Enough. We've waited a year for this week, and it's time to get this ship underway.

 

NMA Reunion -- Tuesday Warmup

Here's a list of people who think nobody can recognize you when you cover your face:

1. Toddlers, when playing peekaboo.

2. Ostriches, while sticking their heads in the sand.

3. Mafiosi, while being perp walked from paddywagon to precinct house.

4. Jim Richards.

 

It's starting to happen

When you arrive at the Doubletree, you'll find plenty of signage to point you to your destination.

Old hands will know they've arrived when the NMA Rehearsal Board pops into view. Same old board, but updated every year, a new schedule for a new reunion.

In the Registration Room, you'll get a warm greeting from our registrar, Deb Holl, who treats each arrival with the warmth, courtesy, and efficiency that is the hallmark of the NMA. 

Deb made me say this.

The Daily Poop -- Monday evening, 22JUN26

FAST FOOD FRANCHISE FAILS FRANK MULLEN SECOND DAY IN A ROW

(Bottoms Bridge, Virg. -- June 22, 2026) For the second day in a row, former Navy musician Frank Mullen and his wife, Jo Knox, were victims of the recent wave of incompetence that has been plaguing Virginia and West Virginia lately.

Early this afternoon, the couple stopped for lunch at the McDonald's in Bottoms Bridge, Virginia. "It was a calculated risk," Mullen said. "We were royally screwed yesterday in Barboursville, West Virginia, by a pair of fast food restaurants that serially failed in meeting the basic requirement of fast food restaurants, which is, basically, the provision of fast food to people who want fast food. (For a detailed story on the failures of Barboursville, WV to provide fast food to people who want fast food, click here.)

"But we didn't figure lightning would strike twice," he added. "We were wrong."

Mullen and Knox ordered two cheeseburgers, two medium French fries, and two beverages. "I didn't see how we could go wrong," Mullen said. "We made it so easy, a poorly-trained seal could have fulfilled the order, if it had been trained to press touch-sensitive pictures of food with its flippers."

Mullen paid the bill, "Nineteen bucks and change," Mullen said. "Seemed steep, but I didn't think too much of it."

Until the order was delivered to his table, that is: Two beverages, two French fries, and four cheeseburgers.

"WTF," Mullen, using the full, non-abbreviated expression so common among veterans of naval service. "It takes a special level of incompetence to screw up and order that is, basically, two of something, two of something else, and two more somethings. Two burgers, two fries, two drinks? Badda-boom, badda-bing."

Mullen, who had previously announced that he would bring the problem of fast-food incompetence to the attention of Donald Trump, who has a way of wading full-force into problems many people believe to fall into the category of Picayune Nothing-burgers, said he was no longer angry.

"Some things just suck," he said. "You can drive yourself berserk expecting reality to bend itself to your will. And why? Oceans are deep, cows are bovine, and fast food joints are incapable of meeting the basic task of fast food restaurants, which is providing fast food to people who want fast food. I'm much happier accepting this."

Asked if he was really happy about accepting the inability of fast food establishments to meet the minimum requirement for fast food establishments, which is to provide fast food to people who want fast food, Mullen said, "Yes and no. Sure, I'm glad I don't have to get red in the face anymore when fast food restaurants fail miserably at a task whose difficulty level could be compared to that of playing Old Maid with a five-year-old. But I feel sorry for my shipmates.

"They didn't ask for this. Every year at this time, I blog about my preparations for the annual reunion of the Navy Musicians Association; what's happening, who's coming, when they're arriving, all that good stuff. But not this year. All they're getting is my childish tantrums about the inability of fast food joints to meet the basic task of fast food restaurants, which is to provide fast food to people who want fast food. Rants. Screeds. Infantile whining.

"They deserve better. And I'll give them better. I'm putting this all behind me. No more of this crap about fast food restaurants failing at the number-one, basic task of fast food restaurants, which is providing fast food to people who want fast food."

 

 

The Daily Poop - Sunday evening, 21JUN

Today's leg of the journey from Illinois to Norfolk took us through West Virginia. Say what you will about West Virginia ("Your brother is your father, but your father don't know"), I hold the state dear because my mother, the Blessed Virginia Petrie Mullen, Pearl of Wisdom and Mother of Greatness, was born there. 

However, West Virginia slipped a bit today. Upon entering the state around noon, we decided to make a quick stop in Barboursville. Our goal for this quick stop was merely to grab a quick bite in a fast food joint, so that when we reached our evening's destination a few hours later, we could enjoy a full meal.

To recap: a quick stop in a fast food joint for a quick meal.

At this point in the narrative, everything goes downhill. Quick and fast.

The kid at the cash register in McDonald's couldn't operate the cash register. If you've ever peeked behind the curtain at a McDonald's' cash register, you know that arithmetic is superfluous to the taking or orders. The only required skill is to be able to differentiate between, say, a picture of a Big Mac and a Chicken McNuggets. You press the pictures instead of keys with numbers on them.

But the kid couldn't manage it, so he called Cheryl. I don't know what Cheryl's job description requires, but apparently, it requires neither showing a new employee how to press pictures of meat nor pressing pictures of meat herself. At this point, Cheryl turned and hollered to a nearby supervisor, "We have a problem."

 Indeed we do. The problem is that we've forgotten the meaning of "fast food." Fast food used to be fast. You walked into McDonald's and the burgers were already waiting for you, lined up in slanted chutes under a heat lamp. You asked for a burger and somebody handed you a burger. It was fast. That's why they called it fast food.

They didn't call it "good food," because it wasn't; they called it "fast food," because it was. That's why you went there. You didn't want to make a reservation at La Maison Etoille, put on a jacket and tie, and have someone named Jacques take your order and watch him kiss his fingertips in approval. You wanted a burger. Fast. So you went to a fast food joint.

Now, McDonald's has gone into the slow-motion business. Even when they can accurately press the proper pictures, you take a number and wait while somebody cooks you a burger somewhere, gives it to someone who mixes up the order and brings you somebody else's lunch. 

Nothing's fast about fast food anymore. The only thing that remains the same is that the food tastes like fast food. The entire fast food experience is much like it was in its heyday, with the exception of the fact that it isn't fast.

But the Barboursville, WV McDonald's today had regressed at the speed of light, from fast food to slow food, and, finally, to no food.

This was supposed to be a quick stop for fast food. The food wasn't fast, the stop wasn't quick, so we left. Burger King was right next door.

We were second in line at Burger King. The woman working the register completed the transaction with the patron in front of us, and, just as I was about to say, "Two medium onion rings, a Coke and a Sprite," she disappeared. Five minutes later, she returned and said, "Excuse me, I'll be right with you."

And she was gone again. A few minutes later, I saw her working the driver-through window. Then she disappeared. A few minutes later, my wife said, "Look," so I looked. The woman was emptying the trash can in the parking lot.

Barboursville isn't in West Virginia. It's in the Twilight Zone. It's the town that time forgot. I was about to suggest to Jo that we leave, but where else could we go? In Barboursville, there isn't any food. There are only cash registers with pictures of food.

Finally, a man appeared behind the counter and asked if we'd been waited on. No, I said, and I was about to expound upon the experience of not being waited on, a way of life in Barboursville, but my wife has a sharp elbow that occasionally prevents me from expounding.

It took us 51 minutes to get fast food in Barboursville, West Virginia, but I was no longer upset. I was at peace, because I had found the solution.

I'm going to file a complaint. Not with McDonald's. Not with Burger King. I'm going to the top, to the real fixer, the righter of wrongs.

I know this will sound strange, but I've decided to complain to Donald Trump. This is right up his alley. Something is wrong with America. You can't get fast food in a fast food joint anymore. This is the sort of thing that Donald Trump loves to get involved in. JD Vance can handle the war while Donald Trump weighs in on the real problem 

If there's one thing Donald Trump knows how to do, it's how to weigh in on something. He weighs in on things you'd think would be beneath the concerns of a president. 

When Cracker Barrel decided to change its signs and modify its dining experience, Donald Trump weighed in. In fact, I seem to recall he took the credit for Cracke Barrel's backtracking. I don't know if it's true, but I recall tweets, or X's, or Truths lambasting the wokeness--whatever that it--of one of America's cultural institutions.

I can think of no cultural institution more central to the world's vision of America than fast food. America is fast food. Hurry, hustle, make a buck, grab a quick bite in a fast food joint.

Well, at least America used to be fast food. But, really, without fast food, what are we?

 

 

The Daily Poop -- Sat. evening, 20JUN

This morning, my wife and I departed for Norfolk, Virginia for the 2026 reunion of the Navy Musicians Association. It starts on Wednesday, June 24, but I want to get there early, and we've got a bit of driving ahead of us.

We'd been packing for a week, or, as some might call it, "seven days of hell." One of us brings a pair of shoes to travel in, another pair of shoes to wear around the hotel, a pair of shoes for the Friday-night concert, another for the Saturday-night dinner, and a few more pairs just in case.

The other just brings a pair of shoes.

That was the week in a nutshell. One of us has traveled the world with a seabag. The other never heard the saying, "You can't take it with you."

Yesterday afternoon, I said, "It's time to load the car.'

"Yes," Jo said, "we need to get started."

"When it's time to load up," I sad, "there is no 'we.'"

"What? We have to--"

"No, 'we' do not have to do anything. For a week, 'we' have been packing. 'We' have turned the dining room into a luggage showroom. 'We' can't walk to the bathroom without tripping over shoeboxes and stepping on bags of yarn and knitting needles. 'We' have survived a week of standing eighteen hours a day because the furniture is covered with suitcases. 'We' are done."

"But how will we--"

"Tut, tut, there's that 'we' word again."

"Well, the car isn't going to load itself."

"Bingo! The car won't load itself, and 'we' aren't going to load the car because--pay attention here--the 'We' team is officially disbanded. 'We' did our job successfully. Now, the 'We' team bids each other farewell and rides off into the sunset."

"Who loads the car?

"I load the car."

"I can help."

"No, you are not 'I.' I am 'I.' 'I' endured a week's worth of so-called 'teamwork,' a week during which progress was stymied at every turn, a week of expanding lists and bulging suitcases. You may now retire to the living room and watch through the window while 'I' load the car."

"But you might forget something. And some things, like toiletries, need to come into the motels along the way. Other things, like maps and snacks, need to be accessible while we're driving."

"Because 'we' make this trip once a year, 'we' have developed certain traditions. One is this: 'I' load the car. The other is the reminder that 'I' issue every year. It goes thusly:

"'I' spent years traveling with Navy bands. 'I' could pack everything for a four-week tour of seven states into a seabag and garment bag in twenty minutes and load it all into the van in six seconds. When 'I' became the Chief, 'I' could pack for a cruise through an ocean and three seas to ten ports in five countries without forgetting anything and make sure that fifteen other men did the same damn thing."

We had a quiet cross-country drive today, unhampered by "conversation," "chit-chat," or other such distractions.

 

 

 

  

 

2025 NMA Reunion Recap

 

The 30th-anniversary Reunion of the Navy Musicians Association in Kansas City provided attendees with a festival of music, sea stories, hails and farewells.

As an "on the road" reunion, we didn't have the number of attendees our Virginia Beach homeport reunions often attract. But we told our stories, played our music, and enjoyed the camaraderie with the hearty vigor of our bigger bashes.

We travel to various parts of the country to attract MUs who live at a distance from our homeport, and we certainly succeeded in this effort. Among those who call this region home were Brian North and Ed Rogers (long known to Navy musicians as "the other Ed Rodgers.") Regular attendees Randy Martell and Dwaine Whitham grew up in this area, so their trips to Kansas City included reunions with their families as well as shipmates.

As usual, our bands made fine music. Yes, sometimes the chops grew tired, but some members who had rehearsed daily with both the dance band and concert band could be spotted jamming in the lounge at night.

(Playing in our bands brings musical and social pleasure; attendance does not require playing. As musicians, we need audiences. Those whose playing days have passed are always welcome at reunions.)

The reunion got off to a strong start thanks to the backstage efforts of some dedicated members. Our treasurer, Stephanie Rowland, and registrar, Deb Holl, opened the registration room promptly for business, thanks to Carl Gerhard and John Clemmer, who had spent the weekend hauling the NMA's gear across the country. Long before the reunion launched, concert band conductor Ray Ascione and dance band director Art Swanson had weeded through the music libraries and organized the music folders.

After a few days of daytime rehearsal and nighttime bragging, we met in the ballroom for the concert band's Friday-night performance. During this hour of inspiring melody, we recognized our plankowners--the MUs who formed the NMA in 1995--and paid honor to those patriots who, throughout our history, have given their lives in answer to our country's call. This was all done in the language we know best: music.

After hors d'oeuvres, the dance band performed. We in the audience obviously enjoyed the entertainment and dance tunes; we stuck around and closed the place down.

At Saturday morning's business meeting, we thanked Dwaine Whitham for his years of service as president of the NMA and chose a new president to lead the association. I am pleased to tell you that we elected Don Keller to take the helm. I have known Don since he enrolled in the Basic Course and followed his career from this initial training to his retirement as a captain. I have no doubt that he will steer the NMA on a solid course.  

Saturday night's dinner and dance began with patriotic music from the NMA "Bag Band." This group performs at reunions when no active-duty Navy band is available to serenade us. While this performance is not highly promoted in our schedule, it plays a vital part in our celebration. We aren't just capable of playing the "fun stuff": concert band, big band and jazz. Long after we have left the Navy, the ability to sit together and play marches and ceremonial music with authenticity and pride endures. We may not stand as straight as we once did on piers and at flagpoles, but in our hearts, we stand taller than ever.

The evening was highlighted by a speech by Dwaine Whitham. His thoughts on the traditions and importance of music in the Navy earned a standing ovation. I will not try to summarize Dwaine's address, as my words would do it no justice. Fortunately, Dwaine has agreed to have his speech published, and we'll soon make them available to you.      

Finally, the dance band took the stage, and the evening finished with dancing, listening, and, of course, stories.

Some members slept late on Sunday morning or enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before the parade of MUs began marching out of the hotel. Others had early flights home and left at zero-dark-thirty. But regardless of when farewells were shared, you'd  hear one sentence repeated over and over, whether in the lobby, hallway, restaurant or elevator:

"See you next year." 

NMA Reunion -- We Approach the Coda

 This has been a wonderful, busy, rewarding reunion.

Our "on the road" reunions tend to be smaller than our Virginia Beach "homeport" get-togethers. But small does not mean "bad." To the contrary, a roadshow reunion attracts members who have difficulty traveling to the East Coast. To put it simply: You'd be surprised to learn how many MUs are from Kansas.

Everyone worked hard this week. Many of us played in both the dance band and the concert band. Chops were sometimes tired, but hearts worked overtime. Last night's Concert Band performance succeeded not only in entertaining the audience but in presenting a varied musical experience. Picture the American Legion March followed by Don Keller's smooth and soulful flugelhorn rendition of "Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most."

The reunion continues. In a few hours, we'll meet one last time for dinner, dancing, and, likely, a bit of speechifying. We don't have an active-duty band to play for us, but Ray Ascione has formed an NMA ceremonial band that will serenade us with a patriotic opener for the evening.

And tomorrow, we'll say goodbye. Many members have early flights home, and will say farewell tonight.

No, the reunion isn't over, but my postings now come to a close. I, too. must leave in the morning and won't have time to contact you. But I'll be home soon, unpacking and already reminiscing about the hard work, sea stories, and music that marked the 2025 NMA Reunion.

And when I'm settled in back home, I'll have time to post a more complete report.

Fair winds, friends from Kansas City. See you soon...

Frank

 

Fri. Afternoon - NMA Reunion -- Liberty Call

Don Keller and Randy Martell are
planning something or other.

We're done rehearsing. The NMA Concert Band had a long session this morning in preparation for tonight's concert, and with that: Liberty.

Our first free afternoon offers the opportunity for sightseeing, relaxation, and leisurely dining. While the hotel restaurant here is quite good and convenient, I've seen groups of MUs gathering in the lobby and lounge in preparation for a trip to experience the cuisine for which this town is noted.

Let's face it: Kansas City is the Meat Capital of the United States.

Wed Afternoon -- NMA Concert Band

 Our concert band probably isn't the biggest band in Kansas City, nor is it the most famous.

But, in a certain way, it's the best; so good that people fly in from across the country just to play in it.

Conductor Ray Ascione herds the cats. 

It's a pay gig, though the compensation doesn't come in dollars. We're paid with the satisfaction that comes from sitting down with our shipmates and doing our very best to support each other. That's what you'd expect, and what you'd need, from this diverse group of full-time professionals and community concert band volunteers.

This is not to say that our first rehearsal was perfect. A band that plays together but once a year can take some time to settle into a comfortable groove. 

The payoff will come at our Friday-evening performance. It's always amazing to realize what we can accomplish in just a few days. We may not have much rehearsal, but we've got a lot of experience.   

Wednesday a.m.-- NMA Reunion is underway.

Passing hotel guests often ask how we can possibly play this early in the day. 

My answer is simple: "Haven't you ever heard the term 'Morning Colors?'"

Tuesday Night -- Reunion Prep

Storms have delayed fllights across the Midwest. Since Kansas City is the literal definition of "The Midwest," some of our friends haven't arrived yet.

But, loyal shipmates stand the watch, prepared to welcome our comerads with open arms.

Jim Heyward and Art Swanson aren't only Navy Band alumni; they toured the country as civilian musicians. 

Charlie Sweet tries to figure out whatever Doyle Church is trying to figure out.

Tuesday Afternoon II -- NMA Reunion Blog

I checked into the Kansas City Airport Hilton late yesterday afternoon. It was evening before I'd unpacked and cleaned up, so I headed downstairs to look around to see if anyone was here yet.

I didn't have to look for long.

Don Keller and Rany Martell discuss trumpet
mouthpieces. Some people find this sort of
discussion absolutely fascinating. These
people are called Don Keller and Randy Martell.

Tuesday Afternoon -- The NMA Reunion is open for business.

Stepanie Rowland and Deb Holl opened the registration room today, and MUs have been signing in throughout the afternoon. Since the reunion begins tomorrow morning, sensible MUs--yes, they do exist--arrive a day early to get settled in and shoot the breeze with each other before the craziness begins.

The NMA Reunion is a good kind of crazy. There's always something happening, a rehearsal, a jam session, a concert, dinner, cocktail hour. And. Of course, stories. (Every time I pass Jim Richards in a passageway, he's got another.)

Sun. 15JUN25 - The Daily Poop - And Away We Go

The car is packed, the computers unplugged, the medications swallowed; Jo and I are heading to the NMA reunion in Kansas City.

We've traveled to these annual affairs every year since 2006...

...and it really shows.

Sat. 14JUN25 - The Daily Poop - Who's in Charge Here?

I started my Navy career traveling the West Coast with a Navy show band, packing clothing, personal belongings and musical equipment for weeks at a time. I finished my career leading a Nay band around Asia by ship, airplane and bus. I've packed seabags, suitcases, and equipment; I've been responsible for the packing of seabags, suitcases and equipment by sixteen sailors. 

So why, I ask myself, is it so damn hard to pack the car for the trip to Kansas City? We're leaving tomorrow morning and are nowhere ready.

In part, it's a leadership problem. We're not lacking leadership; to the contrary, there's too much leadership. I am not the only person who believes he is in charge of loading the car. Another person also considers his- or her-self in charge of the operation. I've had my stuff organized and ready to go since yesterday afternoon. The other person still has open, half-full suitcases sprawling across the bed. 

I have prepared a packing list so each item may be stowed according to three criteria: Does it need to be removed from the car at the hotel we're staying at tonight? Can it remain in the hold until we reach our destination? Must it be accessible to driver and passengers during the journey? 

 The other person is still standing in front of mirrors deciding which top goes with which bottom.

Sorry, I just had to get this off my chest. I will now revert to my usual jolly self and ask this other person how I might assist him or her in his or her preparations. 

Vote Frank Mullen for Human of the Year.

  

 

 

    

Fri., 13JUN25 - The Daily Poop - Packing

THUR 12JUN25 -- The Daily Poop with The New Frank Mullen.

SUN 15JUN25 AM -- Dep. Aledo, IL

SUN 15JUN25 PM -- Arr. Osceola, IA

MON 16JUN25 AM -- Dep. Osceola, IA

MON 16JUN25 PM -- Arr. Kansas City, MO

TUE 17JUN25 -- Prep for reunion.

WED 18JUN25 AM thru SAT, 21JUN25 PM -- NMA Reunion

SUN 22JUN25 AM -- Dep. Kansas City, MO

SUN 22JUN25 PM -- Arr. Ottumwa, IA

MON 23JUN25 AM -- Dep. Ottumwa, IA

MON 23JUN25 PM -- Arr. Aledo, IL

For God's sake, you'd think this was a three-month cruise involving 120 performances in seven countries, hot-racking with the bosuns and eating on the fly. Fact is, my wife and I are just driving 360 miles to a comfortable hotel where my shipmates and I will shoot the breeze, sit in on jam sessions, rehearse for a few days and put on a few concerts.

------------

This year's Frank Mullen at the reunion will be the New Frank Mullen. The difference between the New Frank Mullen and the Old Frank Mullen, is that the New Frank Mullen's clothes fit. 

The New Frank Mullen doesn't weigh in at the same low poundage the Old Frank Mullen brought to his first reunion in 2006. The weight gain has not been outlandish, but that steady accumulation, ounce by ounce, year after year, has added up to the undeniable fact that the New Frank Mullen does not fit in the Old Frank Mullen's wardrobe. The New Frank Mullen wishes he'd realized this a few years ago and apologizes to all those upon whom he has inflicted his unfortunate visage.

Out with the old and in with the new. The New Frank Mullen has outfitted himself for 2025. Yes, the New Frank Mullen is still a fashion-free slob, but he's a fashion-free slob whose clothes fit.

It's amazing what 45 minutes in Walmart can do.

 

WED 11JUN25 - The Daily Poop - First Edition

After every NMA reunion, it always seems like an eternity will pass before we meet again. But eternity always passes quickly. Now, to my shock, I find myself packing and prepping for the 2025 NMA reunion, which begins a week from today.

Every year since 2008, I've published The Daily Poop during the run-up to the reunion. It provides a way to stay in touch with shipmates, to promote the NMA, and—frankly speaking—to drum up a bit of anticipation at a time when we already have more than enough anticipation to go around. The Daily Poop is published here at my blog, NavyLyres, and is also crossposted to Facebook. 

I'll keep up The Daily Poop until early next week, when I'll switch to the traditional NMA Reunion Live-blog coverage. This is our 30th anniversary, so I expect a lively party awaits us in Kansas City. 

So, if you can't come to the reunion this year, a quick check here or at Facebook will provide a taste of our reunion goings-on. 

---------------------------------------------------

I wish I looked as good
as the AI version of me.

My journey to Kansas City will be the first road trip in my new car—well, it was new in December, but I still haven't figured out all the bells, whistles, and electronic shenanigans that come with cars nowadays.

The only gadgetry I truly understand is Siriusly Sinatra. The car came with a few free months of SiriusXM, which streams Sinatra into my soul every time I press the car's start button. Frank is often joined by other crooners and jazz singers, but the Main Attraction is the Voice. Naturally, I've continued the subscription. Let's face it—everything goes better with Sinatra.

SiriusXM provides other channels, and one afternoon, I sampled them. There's a sixties channel, a jazz channel, a comedy channel, and probably a channel for everything you could possibly want.

But if you have any sense of taste, you don’t want them. You want Sinatra.

I'm a lucky guy—but not as lucky as my wife. Jo gets to ride to Kansas City with two Franks.

. 

  

More Rooms at the Hotel!