This evening Don and I drove over to Arlington to take in the Navy Mid-South Brass Quintet's performance. It didn't attract a lot of people, but there were some, and the ones who were fortunate enough to be in attendance enjoyed a crackerjack show:
It was a terrific program, featuring everything from "Tonight" from West Side Story, to a Duke Ellington piece, to a marvelous piece entitled "Exaltation," composed by a man about Kirstin's age, with whom Justin (the male trumpet player) used to play. Mostly it would be Justin or Alex who interacted with the audience between numbers:
After the concert - or recital - attendees came to the stage to chat with the musicians:
The Navy Mid-South Brass Quintet:
From left to right are: Laura (who is the unit leader, deciding upon the repetoire, etc.), Justin, Alex, Tammy, and John. They are each of them remarkably gifted musicians, and simply super people....Alex's lines have indeed fallen in pleasant places.
Or as he put it, "I can't believe I'm getting paid for this!"
Earlier in the afternoon Alex and Justin came by to visit and check email, having gone to The Original Mexican place and stuffed themselves with fajitas, and slurped a 'rita or two. Believe it or not, they'd eaten to the point they both turned down freshly baked thumbprint cookies, which I'd baked because of Charles' leaving home....it'll be awhile before he gets them again.
Charles came home while the guys were here, and had more Boot Camp Wisdom provided for his edification. His edification, and Alex and Justin's amusement, each coming up with warnings for him regarding the injections he'll receive, how he'll be hauled out of bed at a hideously early hour and the difficulty of making a perfect mitred corner, how he should drink only water and eat lots of fruit, avoiding sugary stuff and soda, etc.
Charles appeared undaunted, but by the time they were finished I was utterly appalled ("In firearms class, whatever you do, do NOT point the barrel of the gun to the left or right....they'll shoot you!").
Oh dear, oh dear. How I wish his boot camp were over.
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