Veterans Day, 2010: Duty, Honor, Conundrum

With only a few days to go, I'm still working on the speech I will deliver on the Mercer County, Illinois courthouse lawn at the Veterans Day ceremony on November 11.

Okay, calm down. Deep breathing worked for me, it'll work for you. Here's what happened:

For the last few years, I've been writing a weekly column for a few newspapers in western Illinois. The Quad Cities Area may not be the center of the universe, but it is the second-largest media market in the Illinois.

I write humor, mostly, but sometimes I slide into the area of military and patriotic matters. Over the last year I've published columns about the contribution the Navy's bands make toward its mission, the difficult choices a military bandleader faces when rain threatens an outdoor concert and my return from last Navy Musicians Association reunion, culminating in my arrival at Moline International Airport, where I was met by cheering crowds, banners and bands, only to realize the crowd was waiting to meet an Honor Flight returning from Washington.

I'm not trying to blow fanfares on the Frank-horn. The point is, I've become sort of, well, famous, in this part of the country.

I'll admit it's sort of fun to be recognized here and there. People will stop me on the street and ask if I'm Frank Mullen. I generally confess. Older shipmates will remember when Ed Sullivan used to interrupt his show by saying, "Ladies and gentlemen, sitting in the audience tonight is the star of the Toast of Broadway, Fontella LaBoomBoom. Stand up and take a bow, Fontella." This has actually happened to me a few times at public concerts. At Rock Island's Independence Day performance by Horizon, the pop contingent for Navy Band Great Lakes, the band acknowledged me from the stage. It was quite a feeling, though I might quibble with being called a "patriot."

But my sort-of-fame has now gone as far as it needs to go. This year, the officers of Mercer County, Illinois, Post 1571 of the Veterans of Foreign Wars have invited me to be the guest speaker at their public Veterans Day ceremony.

On receiving the invitation, a part of me, I'll admit, exulted with delight; Frank Mullen was now to be acknowledged as the Great American he has always known himself to be. Bos'un, pipe "Attention"; sideboys, man the side.

That fantasy didn't last long. The fact is, being asked to speak at the Veterans Day observance is an honor I don't deserve, an honor I haven't earned and an honor I can't turn down.

But honor sometimes includes responsibility.

This honor is not about me. It's about those who have marched before me, beside me, and those who will follow.

I can do this. I can write the speech. I can, in fact, write a powerful speech.

The problem is, the better the speech, the less the chance that I'll be able to get through the whole thing.

A few changes

You'll notice Navy Lyres has a new look.

Not better. New.

But, you'll notice I have given myself a better, new title. Originally, I was the "Host," but that made Navy Lyres sound like a talk show. I became your "Webmaster," which seemed menial. Since there's only one guy on this totem pole, why should I be at the bottom?

I decided to put myself on top. I have promoted myself to Commodore of Navy Lyres.

Some may wonder why, since I'm handing out promotions so freely, I didn't make myself some sort of admiral. Well, remember when you got a lousy evaluation and the brass tried to soften the blow by telling you that your toilet paper-wad of a 2.9 eval "leaves room for growth"?

It's like that. I fully expect, with time, to rise through the flag ranks. Meanwhile, I'll get to work. Well, right after my promotion ceremony.

Form the band on the quarterdeck. Bugler, sound "Attention."

Crucial information

Occasionally, I hear things from active duty MUs that demand to be passed on. This came in recently, and deserves dissemination:

"'Navy van' is the same spelled frontwards or backwards."

Just thought you'd like to know.

Buddy Morrow: Trombonist, Bandleader, Navy musician

Buddy Morrow, longtime trombonist and bandleader, died a few days ago at the age of 91. According to the New York Times, his final performance as leader of the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra, only days earlier, was greeted with "tumultuous applause." This was no surprise to me; I saw Buddy and the band a few years ago. As I noted then, the Dorsey Orchestra played with the mastery of experience and the energy of youth.

It also does not surprise me to learn that Buddy was a former Navy musician. The Times article mentions that he served with a Navy band on Staten Island, New York, from 1941 to 1945.

My grandfather was the Executive Officer of the Naval Frontier Base, Staten Island, during those war years. I have some 8x10 glossy photos of the band participating in a military ceremony. I'll have to dig them up; maybe I can come up with a photo identifiable as MU3 Morrow.

Military band costs still attract media attention

Military bands have been in the media spotlight lately. For the last few weeks, we've been filling each others' in-boxes with links to the series of Washington Post columns concerning the cost of military bands.

The spotlight grew brighter and less flattering today, when NPR picked up the story. Walter Pincus, the author of the Post series, appeared this morning on "All Things Considered." (Audio of the show, and links to the the Washington Post articles are here.)

Pincus says the Marine Corps fessed up to spending $50 million on their bands annually. The Army had trouble coming up with a figure, finally estimating almost $200 million for their four or five thousand musicians.


This could get strange. The current Senate and congressional campaigns are, to a great degree, about runaway government spending, so we can see the temptation for congressional candidates to wave this story around as a flagrant example of waste. On the other hand, the story has been publicized by those no-good liberal media outlets, NPR and the Washington Post. Politicians who claim to hate government and it's profligate ways, however, tend to be those who support our military. Will they side with the East Coast elite media enemy?

All I know is we've been through this before.

Sorry for the inconvenience, old shipmate

The randomness of credit card security measures has always mystified me. I show my driver's license when I charge a four-dollar quart of ice cream in a convenience store; then I drive across the street, swipe my card at the gas pump and put twenty bucks-worth of gas into my tank without cross-examination.

In 1986, I decided to start testing these security measures by signing fictitious names on credit card receipts. For a few years I signed as "Francis Malarkey," "Feodor Mussorgsky" and "Festus Muldoon." Not once did my roster of vaguely Frank Mullen-like signatures attract  a second glance from a cashier, waitress or salesman.

In the early '90s I decided to stop the shenanigans. I did away with all those aliases and began signing all credit card slips with one name: Fred Muzer.

Fred was a shipmate with whom I served in the 1970s at Navy Bands in San Francisco and Newport. We were friends and housemates, and the fact we were both "F.M"s confused a lot of people we met, but, believe me, it hasn't shaken anybody in the credit card industry.

I've been signing Fred's name since about 1992. Fred, old pal, if you're getting billed for mysterious purchases of unleaded gas, sour cream at Amtrak tickets to Denver, don't panic; you're playing a vital part in my efforts to test the nation's economic security.