By Patsy R. Brumfield/NEMS Daily Journal
This year’s Pensacola Bands on the Beach fun got an outstanding kickoff this past Saturday night, although in all modesty, I must say it was our best effort yet.
While the wind off the Gulf still packed a chilly punch, it didn’t cool down my brother-in-law’s Superband, the summer entertainment harbinger.
We had a great deal of fun, especially with some new additions to the program for the backup “girls,” of which I am one. We really rocked ‘em out on Ronettes’ famed “Be My Baby” and are quietly planning new offerings for next year, if we live that long.
Frankly, I haven’t seen a video of the musical celebration, but I hope it doesn’t hit me like those oldies programs on Mississippi ETV, where the musical oldsters are doing their best to move and groove while the audience looks like it’s got one foot on the proverbial banana peel. I used to watch those things and think, “Good grief, that audience looks on its last breath.” Then, I thought about the aging Superband members and was just glad our Florida audiences are a big mix of the young and not-so-young.
My bro-in-law, who leads the Superband, was quite pleased with our performance as we dined late at The Waffle House and happily remarked how great it was to bring music to folks who weren’t even born when Ben E. King sang “Stand by Me” or the Drifters crooned “Under the Boardwalk.”
Tommy, I said to him, their parents weren’t even alive when those tunes hit our transister radios. Regardless, it’s much fun to bring the Sixties music to a big crowd and watch their dancing or singing with us in front of the big beachfront stage.
This year’s kickoff came a few weeks earlier than usual and put me into the Easter mode.
My sister was kind enough to affirm my request for Easter hats for the backup “girls,” although in the end I was the only one stubborn enough to wear one. Oh, they were cute, that wasn’t the problem. In fact, they were what’s called “fascinators,” which are those snappy front-of-head stand-up fancies you may recall seeing on the pates of Victoria Beckham or other female VIPs at Kate and Prince William’s wedding back when.
I was annoyed by everyone else’s lack of fashion boldness, but hey, I don’t live there and nobody had the slightest idea who I was. These women have to live with their audience, and I suppose they feared public ridicule later. Regardless, I forgive their timidity.
Now that I’m back home from that mega-journey, my thoughts have turned to getting my hands dirty in the garden this weekend.
My sugar-pea plants are poking their sweet heads up nicely, but it’s really been too cold for much else. I’m taking a chance, but I’m going to dive in head first.
Mother Nature really scored a big hit, sadly, on my wisteria vines during the latest cold snap.
I’d greatly admired them shortly before, which probably brought down the lady’s wrath, and those two 25-degree mornings put the ki-bosh on my wisteria buds. Guess the massive, sweet-smelling display on my little hilltop will have to wait for next year.
I’m also due to assist my son and his wife with their new raised beds in their first home, smacked with some force by the Jackson hail storm of a few weeks ago.
We’ll start out small and figure out what works best where, though that always takes a few years to be sure.Meantime, we’ll all dream about luscious summer tomatoes and cantaloupes.
Patsy R. Brumfield writes a Thursday column. Contact her at (662) 678-1596 or firstname.lastname@example.org.