My alma mater high school band chosen to march in inaugural!

1300 applications for 70 spots, and the East Greenwich High School Avengers marching band was picked! Way to go Avengers musicians! EGHS was a great High School. I got a very good education there and I have valued it ever since I graduated in 1978, oh my goodness, 30 years ago!

East Greenwich High band to march at Obama inauguration

The East Greenwich High School Avengers band has been invited to be in President-elect Barack Obama's inaugural parade. The inaugural committee extended an offer to the schools' band to march in the 56th Inaugural Parade, according to a news release. School marching bands from around the country and representatives of the armed forces will appear in the parade down Pennsylvania Avenue following Obama's swearing-in on the Capitol steps on Jan. 20."I am honored to invite these talented groups and individuals to participate in the Inaugural Parade," Obama said in the statement. "These organizations embody the best of our nation's history, diversity and commitment to service. Vice President-elect Biden and I are proud to have them join us in the parade." Some 1,382 organizations applied to participate. Those wishing to be in the parade submitted an application to the Armed Forces Inaugural Committee, which then helped the Presidential Inaugural Committee to review applications.

A group of military musicians helped assess the presentation skills of marching bands, musical acts and drill teams. Parade participants are responsible for paying for their own lodging and transportation to and from Washington, D.C. The Committee has been working closely with area governments and civic organizations to facilitate access to affordable accommodations and would like to encourage citizens from across the country to reach out and help the East Greenwich High School Avenger Band raise the necessary resources to participate in this historic event.

Call me Neptuna

If you love the ocean, don't move to North Georgia. The sound of soothing waves become dim and retreat only to the farthest reaches of your mind. Thankfully, I have many memories to revisit when I feel the ocean's pull here in forested, hilly, dry Northeast Georgia.

Growing up in East Greenwich RI, my family joined the Greenwich Club, a private swim club open to all. We'd pile in the car, drive the 3 miles, and once the car was parked, leap out, and run barefoot over the gravel stones to the entry hut. The wait to check in seemed like forever, but then I'd run down the concrete apron and jump in the kiddie pool. To a kid, this was pure joy. We would just swim and swim all day. Here I am at age 6. Does it look like I am in heaven, or what?

My grandparents lived in Providence, but they'd bought a small cottage on Charlotte Drive in Warwick RI, right on Greenwich Bay. Oh, summers at Nonnie's were great, for a kid. The big Sunday Supper, many adults hanging around, and the BAY!! Swim, run off dock, swim, snorkel, pick stones and shells, and best of all, at night when we fell asleep all snuggly and tired from playing, the last sound I'd hear would be the tiny flip-flip of the wavelets on the shore. The first sound I'd hear in the morning was the same. How lucky, the ocean right out my window.

As an adult in my thirties, I sailed the ocean blue. An explorer like Columbus, I lived aboard a trusty sailing ship. Aboard a Tayana 37 with my then-husband, we departed from Yarmouth Maine and took a year to make way to the Bahamas and back. We lived aboard for two years total, and saw many waters as we went up and down the eastern seaboard.

Different water has different moods, and we encountered them all. The placid Chesapeake could churn into an angry roil in an instant. The Dismal Swamp was serene and mysterious, and the blue waters of Lake Worth with the millionaire's mansions very beautiful. Here I am at first light, after an overnight passage from Charleston SC to Lake Worth FL. Clutching my hot coffee!
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As an older adult, I vacationed quite a bit between Machias and Lubec Maine, the far eastern portion of the part of Maine that borders the ocean. In that neck of the woods the waters are cold, gray, forbidding and beautiful also, in a steely way. In Lubec, which abuts New Brunswick Canada, the waters are the renowned Bay of Fundy.

"The Bay of Fundy is one of the world's greatest natural phenomena situated on the right shoulder of the North American continent. The 173 mile long arm of the Atlantic Ocean is wedged between the Maritime Provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia and is accessed through the Gulf of Maine. The Bay features a narrowing width 74 miles between Yarmouth, N.S. and Cutler, Maine, to 27 miles at Cape Chignecto (Thurston, 1998). The diminishing width gives the Fundy a "funnel" shape, and has a remarkable amplifying effect on the tidal patterns." Above, Cutler Maine, where tides rise and fall 20-30 feet.

The pool, the bay, the ocean are all far away from me now, but I do have a lovely pond in which to watch for the resident heron. And I do love the rolling hills and the trees, which house riotous birds, calling out the dawn's daybreak to my delighted ears. But the ocean is the ocean, there's nothing like its power, draw, and beauty. Fortunately, I've experienced much of it and can retreat in my mind to where the splashing of waves can instantly appear.

Accent-uate the positive

I spent some time in Scotland a few years ago. The local controversy at the time was why listeners never hear a range of UK accents on the British Broadcasting Network (BBC). The entire UK is composed of people from England, Scotland, and Wales, with all their regional and local accents, yet, the debate went, listeners of BBC Radio and watchers of BBC news only heard the upper crust royal accent, which is certainly not reflective of the patchwork of people that make up a proud and diverse country.

My maternal grandparents were from Yorkshire, England, and I loved their accent, so gentle and broad, especially when singing me a lullaby or telling me a story. My fraternal grandparents were Italian, which is a musical language to begin with. Even when they argued it sounded nice. Growing up in Rhode Island meant that you sounded like a New York Brooklynite, except more harshly nasal. You really can tell a Rhode Islander when you hear one. When I got to college in central Maine, I felt too regionally identifiable so I worked at rubbing the edges off the worst of my RI accent.

Moving to Georgia from New England the first thing I noticed was the accent. I’ve been here a few months now and I’ve begun to pick up local differences. I think the Georgia accent is melodious. A local mechanic shop has on their parking lot bulletin board, “Stop in for tars,” a humorous acknowledgement of how people from North Georgia sound.

My thought process about accents came to coalescence when I was watching the movie “Facing the Giants” this weekend. Halfway through I noticed the main characters all had genuine Georgia accents. Then I thought about how we don’t hear accents in the media or movies here in the US either. If you do hear one, it’s faked, helped along with a hired voice coach, the accent dispensed with as soon as the movie’s done. Even the Atlanta newscasters sound like they could be from anywhere but here.

I think we are a diverse and proud country, as well, and we need to hear ourselves as ourselves. Hearing and seeing ourselves reflected as we are confirms differences but affirms worth. Who made the rule that we must only hear the Midwest accent and that no others are worthy of reaching the light of day? How harmful is vocal homogenization? Now I’m sorry I tried to homogenize myself by diminishing my RI accent. Though I’m sure my southern friends will tell me there’s plenty Yankee left in my voice! I think I’ll git me some tars and drink cawfee while I wait. Ayuh.