I flew there, on a plane. Being in a big airport is confusing and enlightening. So many people, of all shades and hues, different clothing and different faces and different smiles. Overhead, the announcements ring like Big Brother or Fahrenheit 451 in sweet strange tones. People walking, machines talking and the old-people cart beeping out of time. Sandwich inflation is rampant; water costs money; this is airport.
The plane is also interesting. I still don't know why I can't listen to my iPod during takeoff or landing. People coughing. The air hostess shows us how to save ourselves. We barely listen. Fasten our seat belts, get ready for takeoff. In the air in no time. Fly through and above the water mountains and finally I can listen to music. Not a long flight, but we still get soda. I just sight-read some music. I did not sleep. This is airplane.
Family. Gasp. Some are incredible. Others are talkative, and some discourse on matters that never seemed important. They are still not important. I'm sorry that you had to stay extra hour at work. I don't really care. Token grandfather popcorn. A board game with dice. Luck is always involved, but strategy never takes back seat. The drive to the university was cool. My aunt and uncle bought me dried apples at the Trader Joe's.
Camp. Making new friends. Always hard, the first day. An unfamiliar place, with faces and smells and sights to boot. At least the lobby had a piano. Found old friends. Made new ones. Played music. I auditioned and was placed into the top wind ensemble, second chair to someone who had never played tenor before. It angered me, but it was an angsty teenage anger, the kind that comes from jealousy and hate. I practiced hard. I auditioned for jazz band. I am a horrible sight reader, but my improv turned out well. I don't think the auditioner dug my sound, and I was second chair tenor in the second band. With my bravado and general enthusiasm and jazz style I convinced everyone I was first tenor. Ha. I love music.
Jazz music is free. I cannot emphasize this enough. It is not something that should be controlled or forced. It should flow, light from light, true jazz from true jazz. Jazz is improvisation; Jazz is personal expression and telling a story without using any words. Jazz should not be arranged and caged, like in the sense of middle school jazz bands, where there aren't any solos at all. To them, jazz is just notes on a page, placed and played. Oh boy! Gee willickers! By golly, jazz is swell and kosher! Huge vibrato, big claps, smiles and snaps on one and three. I'm sorry, but this is not the case. Jazz is heavy. If you can't say "I'm angry" or "I love you" in words, Jazz can say all that and a bag of chips. The salt and vinegar kind. Something that takes class and taste, acquired and always different. To those seek to contain jazz with tangible notes on a piece of paper and destroy the solo, I despise you. To those who seek to bring jazz into it's true setting, the unknown and the ever-changing, I admire you. Jazz ponder.
I also learned that using the word "gay" instead of "stupid" is in essence idiotic. No, really that idea can not be gay. Any jokes, for that matter, that insert the word "gay" are completely foolish. Gay people are often much cooler than straight people. On a side note (with zest of sarcasm) Fox News should go screw itself.
Anyways,
enjoy life. Don't postpone it. Let is happen. Nothing good comes from holding things back. Except the Hoover Dam.
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