dianaschnuth

Any other day, we would have perused the second-hand shops, the bookstores, and Goodwill — but we were coming to the close of a long day of driving and funeral and entombment (and finally lunch), and a stroll around the Oregon District was not in the cards.

Perhaps another time.

Even though I played with the Litchfield Town Band briefly during the mid-90’s, I was still surprised to witness the pride of this little town in their concert band. All summer, on Friday evenings, the town band assembles in the gazebo to play marches and polkas and other traditional crowd favorites.

When my son and I went to visit my Mom at the end of July, a good number of her friends were looking forward to pulling out some chairs and listening to the music. Having been a music major in a former life, I could tell that it wasn’t exactly professional-sounding, but it wasn’t totally cringey, either. It was enjoyable in that live-music-outside sort of way.

Except to one nine-year-old boy who’d already had a long day. To him, it was “boring,” and he just wanted to go back to Grammy’s house and relax.