This past weekend was a big one for parade bands all across the country, and members of the Roma Band found themselves traversing the South Shore of Massachusetts for much of that time.
I'd arranged for car transport with Ben Miller, and on every trip we had to make, we were always in the company of at least one other person. On Saturday afternoon we met up in Porter Square (Cambridge) near where Ben lives. On the train to Porter, I bumped into my cousins Brian and Sandra, and my Aunt Sharon (Sandra recently moved to Porter). This was a completely random meeting, but it was really nice, and is definitely a building block in what makes this Independence day weekend so memorable.
Josh Mizruchi, a trumpet player who's been involved with a lot of my projects at NEC, played his first gig with us that day. It was fun to have him there, both for the parade, and the necessary driving. I must re-emphasize my joy in seeing the world from a car. North of the Bunker Hill Bridge, I-93 is still elevated, and it was wonderful to see that view again after at least a few years.
Our first parade was in Randolph, MA. Not too far (none of them were) from Boston. The band was the largest it had been since the Cambridge event, and you could feel it. Thankfully, this parade was not too long, and we did a lot of playing. I left my horn in the trunk Ben's car overnight, and was glad not to have to lug it back to Porter Square in the morning.
The next day, I ventured out to Porter again. This is an area that I once lived near, but I seldom stop to think about that time (it wasn't too fun). I recently had a bad dream about it.
With Ben and I on the 4th was his friend Natalie, a therapist/drummer who trains "service monkeys" in Allston. I don't know about you, but Allston is not the first place I think of as having a monkey population - it does make sense, though, when you think of all the parties that happen, and the "hipsters"/"art freaks" that reside there. This was Natalie's first marching gig since high school, and I think she's planning on joining us again.
We also had a bass drummer, and this helped add to the music. Her name was Maggie, and she has to be about 14 or 15 years old. The youngest member of that first group was a ten-year-old trumpet player named Ben, who was playing with his father. I didn't get to hear him in the front line, but I think the age range of this band is incredible.
Our first parade that day took place in Hingham, a well-off seaside town with a huge audience for this particular event. I used to attend a summer music festival there, and it was one of the more important things for my education as a kid. It is called the South Shore Conservatory, and was very much akin to conservatory life - full of music, energy, and great fun.
After that parade, most of the band drove to the manager's house for a cookout. It was more of an eat-in due to the heat. After we ate, we all took naps in their livingroom, guest bedroom, and hallway. They insisted on it, but it definitely helped us get through the rest of the day in good spirits. We had a good amount of time before we had to take off again.
Our third and final parade of the weekend took place in Norwood, up Washington Street, the same Washington street that goes up through Boston. It was the longest parade of the weekend, but it moved fairly quick, and had the biggest crowds.
Afterwards, we drove onto I-95, going around Boston and into Cambridge. I went to the Charles River to see the fireworks, though this was probably a bad idea (I still had my horn). before they were over, I made my way out of the crowd, and got to the train before not too long. This has been the second year in a row that I hadn't camped out on the esplanade all day, heard the concert, and saw the fireworks. I miss it, so I decided I had to see something of it - no matter what.
After a public transportation fiasco (catching an inbound 39 bus to Back Bay station, and getting on the orange line), and seeing an impromptu fireworks display in the basketball court near my house, I got home at about 12:30AM. This is not the latest I've ever gotten home, but I've seldom been more exhausted.
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