It was a balmy evening with just a hint of
thunder in the air, as hubby and I dusted off a couple of deckchairs and headed for a patch of grass outside the building grandly called the
“Recreation Center”. We joined mums and dads, grandpas
in shorts and baseball caps, unfolding
their nylon chairs with the cupholders in the armrests, or spreading rugs on
the ground, accompanied by kids, dogs and insect
repellent – I mean bug spray.
We were all there to
hear the Allegany High School Alumni And Friends
Band, currently unpacking its tubas and trombones and settling itself, if not
exactly on a stage, on a piece of grass near the building so we could all rush inside
if it rained.
The Alumni and Friends Band started off as a
bunch of old classmates. These days,
their hair is sparser and their girths wider than they
were back in the day, probably longer
ago than most of them care to remember, when they graced the classrooms and sports
fields of our local high school. They
started the brass band as a sort of hobby and
a way of keeping in touch. But they’ve got far more than nostalgia value.
Take it from me, they are seriously
good. They play every couple of weeks on
summer evenings for anyone who wants to listen, just for the fun of it, the
music laced with a bit of friendly banter.
They love what they do and they don’t
charge a penny for it.
The evening kicked off with the National
Anthem, which is always slightly awkward for me, as Americans not only stand up but put their hands on
their hearts in a rather touching way and being foreign, I can’t really do that.
I worry that people who don’t know me
might think I’m making some sort of silent protest. No American in this part of Western New York
wouldn’t put hand on heart. It would be unthinkable.
Then the performance
proper was up and running with a blood-racing Sousa march, followed by the
“Carnival of Venice” , including a trumpet solo. The conductor announced Jason, the
soloist, “One of the finest trumpeters I’ve ever known
– er, what was your name again?” And
everyone groaned and chuckled.
Next was a special
from the trombone section, “Directed by
my accountant – and he charges too much! Dennis, do you want the microphone?”
“You bet I want the microphone,” barked Dennis the
Accountant, “ I want to introduce our
first tune. Well our first tune needs no introduction….”
Of course not,
since it was “Amazing Grace” and the audience closed its eyes and smiled wistfully
and some birds in the trees couldn’t help but join in. We could have been round the bandstand at some
old, genteel British seaside town –
except there wasn’t a bandstand.
Then there was a slow, languid, jazzy number and then,
inevitably, “America the Beautiful” and
finally it was time for the last tune, “I think you know what the last tune is
– we’ve only done it for the past twelve
years”.
And off they went
with “The Stars and Stripes Forever” and everyone tapped their feet and clapped
along and then it was time to go home – with a reminder that St John’s Church was laying on hot dogs and
free ice cream.
Hardly an evening
to make history but it’s nice to think
that there is a kinder, simpler, gentler America
and we’re lucky here that we don’t have to look too far to find it.
What a delightful view of this corner of the world which is so unknown even to Americans. Well done, Alenka, looking forward to many more.
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