Saturday, March 31, 2018

Closing Out the Month


And so March. Began the month in Shanghai in winter clothes and write this wearing shorts in San Francisco. In-between was my effortless re-entry into school, non-stop reflection on the despair of school shootings and the hope of the largest march (in March!) in Washington in the history of protest marches. The awakening and public presence of concerned, articulate, intelligent and feeling young people who are so much larger than our image of them as superficial tweeting teens, the Millenials not counting on the Baby Boomers and taking matters into their own hands.

In the classroom, making music with my students again was a sheer joy, though I am noticing a curmudgeonly impatience with kids who are not 100% focused. And on the music front, got to work on my long-dreamed of CD recording with my Pentatonics jazz band and the fun, excitement and amazement to be laying down tracks at Fantasy Records whose walls are filled with album covers that speak my own cultural history, from Miles to Coltrane to Bill Evans to Allen Ginsberg and beyond. Going back to mix it tomorrow and started work on the liner notes this morning. As Duke Ellington said, “ a goal is a dream with a finish line” and with our May 12th concert at SF Jazz uncomfortably close, I’ve got to get to work here.

Tomorrow is Easter, no kids or grandkids nearby to hide the eggs, but as mentioned, will spend the day hunting for the perfect combination of sounds to mix into the final CD in the studio. Ironically, also April Fool’s Day! Hope the engineer doesn’t leave a note on the door saying, “Just kidding. No session today.” Much promise ahead in the weeks of April, but I’ll wait until tomorrow to announce it. Not that anyone’s on the edge of their chair.

But first to close out March. Time to change my razor, cut my toenails, organize my school papers, clear my desk. Prepare for the miracle of resurrection, which in today’s political terms means reclaiming Congress and the possibility of a democracy that deserves the name. In personal terms, the usual struggle with exercise and the burgeoning belly and the ongoing war dance with the piano and the eternal battle between complaint and gratitude.

And on we go.

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