My cares are over . . .
I’ll be at the San Diego Jazz Fest, listening to friends and heroes — a list too long to enumerate here. Besides I’d leave someone out and create a lifelong wound.
What this means is that JAZZ LIVES might be dormant for the next few days. But since I think I’ve posted nearly four thousand of them since beginning in February 2008, you could — you just might — find something else to look at and listen to. There is a SEARCH bar, I recall.
I hope that someone will come up to me at the Town and Country (thank you, again, Paul Daspit!) and say, “Michael! I knew you were going to be here. I read it on your blog!”
Years ago, people would have said to me — anxiously — “Aren’t you afraid of telling burglars you are going to be away?” Not really. Here’s a few words to burglars: Be careful not to trip on the purple wire. The toilet’s slow, so you might have to flush twice. When you play my HRS 78s, please hold them by the edges. Be sure to make a nice sandwich with what’s in the refrigerator. I’d rather it fed you than went to waste. If you feel like dusting, that would be appreciated as well. Please take the garbage with you when you leave. And the autographed Sidney Catlett photograph stays.
I’m thankful for so many things, but the San Diego Jazz Fest is a substantial one. I hope to come back with videos, but more important than that, the memory of hugs given and received.
May your happiness increase!