I just had a glance at that yellow countdown thingie on the right and saw that the reunion begins in seven days and 48 minutes.
It's true. The NMA reunions technically begin at 0900 on Wednesday morning. That's when the first rehearsal actually starts. Okay, really, that's when trying to herd a bunch of sleepy MUs into a semblance of a band begins.
In truth, it's hard to say when the "reunion" part of the reunion begins. Because the official action begins on Wednesday morning, a good number of members will be on site on Tuesday. That often means a Tuesday evening jam session in the lounge.
We can do that because the equipment-moving elves have moved the NMA's gear into the hotel on Tuesday during the day or perhaps sometime Monday. ("Equipment-moving elves" is a misnomer. They're actually members of the Board of Directors who haul the tons of NMA stuff to the site in advance.)
In fact, on Monday you'll see a good number of members milling about the hotel. And now that I think of it, last year I came down into the lobby late on Sunday afternoon and encountered Wilbur Smith, the Blakeleys and Leon Harris.
So if you come early, we're glad to see you. Same thing if you come late. Many attendees arrive while the reunion is already in session. Some show up on Thursday. MUs who couldn't cancel weekday obligations arrive on Friday and still enjoy all the weekend activities.
So yes, the NMA "reunion" begins on Wednesday morning, but the "reuniting" part begins whenever MUs get together.
Which is why I like being in touch with you this way. It kinda starts the reunion even earlier.
Frank Mullen's very unofficial source of poop, skinny and bitching for present and former U.S. Navy Musicians.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
The Daily Poop - Tues., 17JUN14
I woke up at 0300, thinking about stuff I need to get done before I fly to Norfolk on Saturday. I write a weekly column for a chain of newspapers in western Illinois, and the way the reunion and my deadlines are lined up, I realized I had to write three columns this week. Packing, shopping, printing out concert band music. Etc.
So I got up, made coffee and turned on the computer. It can all wait.
Great news for those who really care how much weight I lose for the reunion every year. Not that there are many of you. Or any.
I won't embarrass you with numbers. Let's just say that I've got my weight down to MU2 level, c. 1979. I've been down to MU3, even MUSN in prior years.
Oh, and I've also settled the haircut problem. I accepted the fact that it was too late to go to the manly barber. My coiffure simply wouldn't have time to recover from the butchery. Love the barber, hate the haircuts.
So instead, I have an appointment for tomorrow at the hair salon around the corner. Yes, yech. But the woman does a good job.
The whole point is to have professional attention paid to The Bald Spot. A B-flat haircut just doesn't address the issue. And there will be no comb-overs, not on my head.
The solution is art. Styling. A hairdo that says this guy has hair. Lots of it. Sure, there's a bit of baldness here and there, but that's to be expected at his his age, and it's hard to believe he's 65, he looks 20 years younger. And oh yes, he's slim, isn't he? Like a rail. Like a flagpole. Like a plastic coffee stirrer.
That's why I'm willing to sit in a shop full of w-w-women. It's worth it all just to walk the halls of the reunion and hear old men whispering to each other, "Hair. Not fat. That damn Frank."
-------
I heard Charlie Sweet may be coming to the reunion. And John Derby's coming, too. They've both been to reunions before, but not at the same time. John and I both worked for Charlie in Show Band West in the '70s. A years or so ago John told me he'd like to apologize to Charlie for his behavior back in those days. I told him that I apologized on his behalf when I saw Charlie in Louisville in 2006. John and I were pains in the butt in those old San Francisco days. We didn't know that someday we'd be bandleaders and find out the hard way what it was like to run a band full of people like, well, ourselves.
------
Okay, that's been plenty o' stalling. Since I leave on Saturday morning, it's four days and a wakeup.
So I got up, made coffee and turned on the computer. It can all wait.
Great news for those who really care how much weight I lose for the reunion every year. Not that there are many of you. Or any.
I won't embarrass you with numbers. Let's just say that I've got my weight down to MU2 level, c. 1979. I've been down to MU3, even MUSN in prior years.
Oh, and I've also settled the haircut problem. I accepted the fact that it was too late to go to the manly barber. My coiffure simply wouldn't have time to recover from the butchery. Love the barber, hate the haircuts.
So instead, I have an appointment for tomorrow at the hair salon around the corner. Yes, yech. But the woman does a good job.
The whole point is to have professional attention paid to The Bald Spot. A B-flat haircut just doesn't address the issue. And there will be no comb-overs, not on my head.
The solution is art. Styling. A hairdo that says this guy has hair. Lots of it. Sure, there's a bit of baldness here and there, but that's to be expected at his his age, and it's hard to believe he's 65, he looks 20 years younger. And oh yes, he's slim, isn't he? Like a rail. Like a flagpole. Like a plastic coffee stirrer.
That's why I'm willing to sit in a shop full of w-w-women. It's worth it all just to walk the halls of the reunion and hear old men whispering to each other, "Hair. Not fat. That damn Frank."
-------
I heard Charlie Sweet may be coming to the reunion. And John Derby's coming, too. They've both been to reunions before, but not at the same time. John and I both worked for Charlie in Show Band West in the '70s. A years or so ago John told me he'd like to apologize to Charlie for his behavior back in those days. I told him that I apologized on his behalf when I saw Charlie in Louisville in 2006. John and I were pains in the butt in those old San Francisco days. We didn't know that someday we'd be bandleaders and find out the hard way what it was like to run a band full of people like, well, ourselves.
------
Okay, that's been plenty o' stalling. Since I leave on Saturday morning, it's four days and a wakeup.
Monday, June 16, 2014
The Daily Poop - Mon., 16JUN14
What's the point of having a blog if you can't whine once in a while?
Oh noooooooo.
I just heard from Frank Bartley. He can't come to the reunion; he has a regular gig in Florida he can not abandon.
Oh noooooooo.
Frank and Max Murray are the two of the NMA's finest bass players. I knew Max couldn't come this year, but now, without Frank Bartley, others are gonna have to step up to the plate at the evening jam sessions
Bill Sterck claims he's a rock player and doesn't do well with jazz chord changes. This was proven false last year when he was pressed into service.He did a fine job and we'll happily invite him on the bandstand this year.
Lee Hudson, I hate to say it, is a gifted musician with a good ear. It also pains me to say that his humility sometimes keeps him off the bandstand when the jamming gets particularly fiery. We'll have none of that this year, Dr. Milton Leander Hudson. We need you on bass.
Then there's me, of course, but I am physically limited. My repetitive stress injuries flared last year when we were short on bass players and I overdid it. I still haven't recovered, but I'll do what I can.
The damn thing is, I love our jam sessions and because we were short on bass players last year, I took it upon myself to be a rhythm section savior. On Thursday night, I knew I should limit my participation, but we needed a bass player and the music became hot. I got worn out and knew I should stop, but agreed to do one last tune. An up-tempo version of "Secret Love" was my downfall, a rendition that included a combination of Latin rhythms and Mike Vax. When it was over, I took my pain to the pool, saw a buddy sitting under an umbrella and pulled up a chair.
Well, I tried to. The chair was wrought iron. By the time I'd dragged the monster across six inches of concrete,
Owwwwwwww.
My reunion bass playing was over.
I've suffered from carpal tunnel and failed surgery for years and am used to a certain amount of pain. But for the last year, it's been worse than ever.
Raaaaaaaabbiiiiiit!
---- Commence whining. ----
Oh noooooooo.
I just heard from Frank Bartley. He can't come to the reunion; he has a regular gig in Florida he can not abandon.
Oh noooooooo.
Frank and Max Murray are the two of the NMA's finest bass players. I knew Max couldn't come this year, but now, without Frank Bartley, others are gonna have to step up to the plate at the evening jam sessions
Bill Sterck claims he's a rock player and doesn't do well with jazz chord changes. This was proven false last year when he was pressed into service.He did a fine job and we'll happily invite him on the bandstand this year.
Lee Hudson, I hate to say it, is a gifted musician with a good ear. It also pains me to say that his humility sometimes keeps him off the bandstand when the jamming gets particularly fiery. We'll have none of that this year, Dr. Milton Leander Hudson. We need you on bass.
Then there's me, of course, but I am physically limited. My repetitive stress injuries flared last year when we were short on bass players and I overdid it. I still haven't recovered, but I'll do what I can.
The damn thing is, I love our jam sessions and because we were short on bass players last year, I took it upon myself to be a rhythm section savior. On Thursday night, I knew I should limit my participation, but we needed a bass player and the music became hot. I got worn out and knew I should stop, but agreed to do one last tune. An up-tempo version of "Secret Love" was my downfall, a rendition that included a combination of Latin rhythms and Mike Vax. When it was over, I took my pain to the pool, saw a buddy sitting under an umbrella and pulled up a chair.
Well, I tried to. The chair was wrought iron. By the time I'd dragged the monster across six inches of concrete,
Owwwwwwww.
My reunion bass playing was over.
I've suffered from carpal tunnel and failed surgery for years and am used to a certain amount of pain. But for the last year, it's been worse than ever.
--------End Whining.--------
Now it's time to inject some positive vibrations into the atmosphere. Maybe a new bassist will show up. Maybe Rabbit Simmons will return. This year.
Raaaaaaaabbiiiiiit!
Friday, June 13, 2014
The Daily Poop - Sat., 14JUN14
I've just been in touch with Wilbur Smith concerning the NMA concert band. Smitty is not letting his recent back surgery stop him. The show goes on.
And we can help. There's a bit of prep work to be done before the first Wednesday rehearsal. Chairs must be set up, music stands assembled, music passed around. We always have a small crew to help Smitty get this done. It will be more important than ever this year, so don't hesitate to pitch in. Helping set up provides the opportunity to bitch while you work.
The hardest part has always been is putting together the stands. They're of a unique fold-up design, and since we only assemble them, we never remember how it's done.
Fortunately, I solved the problem last year with this training vido:
And we can help. There's a bit of prep work to be done before the first Wednesday rehearsal. Chairs must be set up, music stands assembled, music passed around. We always have a small crew to help Smitty get this done. It will be more important than ever this year, so don't hesitate to pitch in. Helping set up provides the opportunity to bitch while you work.
The hardest part has always been is putting together the stands. They're of a unique fold-up design, and since we only assemble them, we never remember how it's done.
Fortunately, I solved the problem last year with this training vido:
The Daily Poop - Fri., 13JUN14
After writing the other day about the rumored possibility of a reunion appearance by Tex Waldron, I got to thinking about a few other shipmates I haven't seen in a few years.
I've heard that Charlie Sweet may make the trip from Colorado; sorry, but I can't source this rumor, as I've forgotten who blabbed it to me. Charlie hasn't been to a reunion since 2006. He's among my Navy Band San Francisco shipmates I love to see, along with John Hanson and Frank Kemp. These guys also haven't come in a few years. Like Charlie and Tex, they live in the western U.S. I'll bet they're hoping for a reunion out thataway. I am too, if you include the Midwest in "thataway."
John Vazquez. John's leadership duties with the American Legion sometimes keep him busy in late June. I heard that he's finally turned over his responsibilities, so maybe he can swing a trip to Virginia Beach.
Ralph Hasty is a fellow Midwesterner. He and Dennis Bear were among the first to welcome me at my first reunion, and I've never forgotten that. Dennis is regular in attendance, but I haven't seen Ralph in a while.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
The Daily Poop - Thurs., 12JUN14
It's time for my reunion haircut. I gave up regular hair care when I left the Navy--I think my last haircut was around Christmas--but I generally clean up a little for the reunion.
Problem is deciding whether to go to the barber or the hair salon. I prefer the barber, because the atmosphere is correct; Field & Stream magazines strewn around the place, NASCAR calendars on the wall, old men shooting the breeze. It's got everything a real man wants in a barbershop.
Well, except for decent haircuts. Every time I go, I beg the barber to give me "just a trim," and walk out of the place looking like an E-2 on boot camp graduation day.
The ladies in the salon, on the other hand, do a great job. The problem is, well, ladies. Old women with their heads in hair dryers. Photos of cats on the wall. Stylists talking about their boyfriends.
I shoulda gone to the barber a month ago. It would have given my hair enough time to recover from the butchery.
Problem is deciding whether to go to the barber or the hair salon. I prefer the barber, because the atmosphere is correct; Field & Stream magazines strewn around the place, NASCAR calendars on the wall, old men shooting the breeze. It's got everything a real man wants in a barbershop.
Well, except for decent haircuts. Every time I go, I beg the barber to give me "just a trim," and walk out of the place looking like an E-2 on boot camp graduation day.
The ladies in the salon, on the other hand, do a great job. The problem is, well, ladies. Old women with their heads in hair dryers. Photos of cats on the wall. Stylists talking about their boyfriends.
I shoulda gone to the barber a month ago. It would have given my hair enough time to recover from the butchery.
-- Rumor of the Day--
Member John Polites tells me he thinks Tex Waldron is coming to the reunion.
It would be great to have "The Partner" back in attendance. He's missed a few years, and the excuses are getting moldy. Granted, he's a busy running his club in Seattle, Tula's, which Downbeat magazine lists as one of the worlds "150 Great Jazz Rooms."
But you'd think he could let the joint slip down to 151st place for a few days. Tex brings to our reunions a certain element of, shall we say, grace and style.
(For a flattering write-up of Tex and his club, featuring a photo of of him posing, for some reason, with two humans and two dogs, click here.)
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