but they're so passe' for us hep cats.
I am now onto the channel... I want to be on. I am noisy in my mind, so these great tunes are blowing clean through this empty room. There is little doubt that a little bit of sweet noise can clean out the system and restore the soul of the lost. I am an artist at heart ... if not in truth at least in the spirit of what it is to try to find the sweet spot of life's comic opera . I work in a state institution.
So just imagine... the tribulations of accomplishing ... reaching the end of the day with all your senses intact. I try and succeed as best I can to bring a joyful noise to my work. So much can be accomplished through the tone of one's voice. Just being happy goes a long way. Strangely, our new client has shown a fondness for me. I don't know why. It's a first for me. I don't want him to depend on me, but it is different how he follows me around. And smiles every time I talk to him. With his eyes. This is getting wierd. Last thing I want to do. Life is kind of a therapeutic mission. Helping and being helped.
Still Don Cherry... in still another installation of his great trumpet skill...
playing with a Turkish quartet in Ankara. They didn't say where, so I took a leap of faith on the geography. I'd best be running along for tonight, but I haven't left yet and now it was just confirmed to be in Ankara, so aren't I clever. Maybe my brain told me I couldn't spell Constantinople. Guess! that wasn't really the reason.
So down to the old watering hole I have come. He, Don et al, are now playing in Peking with Chinese bell players, flutes. Back then it was Peking to us , so when did we begin to use Beijing. It turns out that was from Stockholm. My bad. Someone out there let me know. Fat chance. Sometimes ... you get what you wish for... a reader. I'll halve to comment somewhere ... and invite them to visit me. All in good time. Signing off for tonight. Your humble servant, Hubert Rainfield, esq.