Movie shoot a close shave for Mead trumpeter

The phone rang and Amy Miller, an “extras wrangler,” was on the line. She asked Pat Absalonson, 17, if he’d like to perform in “Home of the Brave,” being filmed in Spokane.

Could he play taps on his trumpet?

No problem.

Pat has been a trumpet player since the fifth grade. He’s now a senior at Mead High School, where he plays in three bands – Jazz 1, Wind Ensemble and the school’s marching band. In the summer, he plays with the Seattle Cascades, a drum and bugle corps.

Mead’s band director, Terry Lack, recommended Pat to Miller. Lack attends church at Life Center, where Miller is creative arts director. She’s also doing this temporary “extras wrangler” gig for the movie.

Two weeks ago, Pat showed up early in the morning at Riverside and Greenwood cemeteries along the river west of downtown Spokane. Inside a heated tent, he ate doughnuts with the other extras. Then it was off to the makeup trailer, where some bad news was delivered.

To play a military bugler in the film’s funeral scene, Pat needed a buzz cut. A buzz cut? Stop right there.

We Mead band groupies – parents, grandparents, godparents, fans and friends who attend band concerts – often chat about the late-1960s hairstyles worn by the band boys. Some of the musicians sport Afros. Some have Beatles cuts – that shaggy length between Ed Sullivan and Sgt. Pepper’s.

The Mead boys are proud of their hair. They toss their heads when they hit the big notes. Their hair tosses, too, adding a dramatic flourish.

Pat’s hair was never long-long. He had more of a longish-short hairstyle going into that makeup trailer. But a buzz cut? Wow. Definitely not part of Mead band culture. Pat thought a minute and said go for it.

The stylist, perhaps sensing some anguish, remembered that Pat would be wearing a military beret. She shaved the sides completely off but left the top long because the beret would hide it.

Soon it was lunchtime. A bugler from a real military honor guard, fresh from a real funeral, practiced taps with Pat. He taught him variations on those mournful notes. The music playing between the older musician and the younger musician sounded so sweet that Samuel L. Jackson, the movie’s big-name star, looked up from his lunch and listened.

By 1 p.m. it was action time. Pat stood in his military uniform, a beret covering his hybrid hairdo, and waited for the signal to play taps. He did his 45-second solo. He wasn’t nervous. He’d done a two-minute solo all year in marching band. He ended up playing taps, or parts of it, about 12 times. They filmed the scene, or parts of it, for four hours.

When it was over, Jackson said to Pat, “Hey, nice playing.”

Pat said, “Thanks.”

Jackson said, “Yeah.”

Pat didn’t notice the extent of his haircut until the next morning. When he arrived at school, band director Lack took one look at that hair and said, “Sorry.”

At Mead concerts, we groupies listen to the “commercials” given by the band directors. They pitch the reasons why band is so good for students. Band kids often score higher on tests, receive better grades and learn the importance of showing up on time and being prepared.

They also learn, as Pat did, that you sometimes sacrifice what seems so important in the short run, longish hair for instance, for a larger goal, such as learning old notes in a new way, or a 45-second solo in a movie.

Pat asked his mom to buzz cut his whole head, because the hybrid looked ridiculous.

“It’s just hair,” Pat told me last Friday, before leaving on spring break.

Yeah. Nice playing, kid. See you in the movies.