Band Concert Tonight

The first concert of the summer season is traditionally at the same nursing home each year, and every year it's a disaster, rather like the horrible dress rehearsal that promises a great opening night. We gather in the dining room, and the audience is wheeled in to watch and comment.

This is always the concert where the snare drum doesn't bother to watch the conductor, the saxes go wandering off in their own direction, and the trumpets forget that someone has to play first part. The trombones, of course, play brilliantly.

Actually, we generally do play better than anyone else, but it has less to do with our talent than with our sitting next to the door. Everyone else in the band simmers in the nursing home heat, while we get a cool breeze.

But you couldn't ask for a happier audience. When they know the tune, they sing along. In fact, they sing along sometimes when they don't.

We all have our favorite stories from nursing home gigs. There was the Alzheimer's patient who had once played trumpet with the Boston Symphony. Whenever we started to play, his face lit up and he put his hands together to blow into the space between his thumbs. He was usually on key, too.

Then there was the other man who spent a whole concert trying to run through the clarinet section. We couldn't decide if he was trying to escape or if he was just a music lover.

Last summer, between getting ready for surgery, having surgery, recovering from surgery, I had to skip the season. This year I'm looking forward to it.