Ferocious, as Promised

I wrote a friend a letter yesterday.  Lee Morgan was on, in my room and I mentioned this to him.  Not sure if he was familiar with the trumpeter, I mentioned a favorite album and  referenced his infamous murder.  Of course I had to look up a thing or two, to confirm and before long I was searching desperately for an online link that would like me see this supposedly wonderful documentary movie that is available out there:  “I Called Him Morgan.”  No, I don’t have Netflix and yes, they seem to have gotten very good at making it impossible to view such a thing unless you do.  So I just considered a few trailers.  Someday I will enjoy watching that I suspect.

Today Mr. Morgan dominated the airwaves at home.  I found two albums on Spotify, “Rajah” from 1966 and “Taru” from 1968 that I’d never heard and I popped the first one on for my ride to the gym.  They were only released recently, many decades after his death.  I suspect I’ll listen through the second one again tomorrow morning to etch the sound into my memory.  His compositions are always so full and evocative.

 Sometimes when the girls are down eating breakfast I throw on old female blues from the 30s and make it audible.  I used to do it every day, in the hopes that it would form a base level carpeting that would stimulate late home feelings whenever they heard such music in the future.  This morning I opted for old Ida Cox.  Set and forget, my little one was the only one up and on her way out the door, Ida started in on “One Hour Mama.”  I’d had that bawdy song on a compilation, years ago.  Don’t know that I’ve ever heard it since.  I was lost in laughter with her boasting when my older one, who doesn’t need to go to school till 9:00AM bounded down the stairs and turned the music off, claiming it was too loud.  Ooops. 

A friend had referenced a tirade of Buddy Rich on his tour bus, tearing apart his young band. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ortxplmV_cA  It’s ferocious as promised and goes on and on for four clips worth of shrapnel.  Another friend said it was on the level of a clip he knew and shared of Klaus Kinski getting insanely angry at Warner Herzog. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ai4ZDUNycec&t=125s  Certainly German anger has a particular bouquet.  Tonight a friend was so intent on debating a point on wechat.  Raising the ante, provoking a response.  I just bowed out with tired thumbs, and thought of referring him to one of these clips to practice his sparring.

Tonight is xiao nian.  Little New Years.  My wife explained it was a night where they would hang decorations and, of course, in as much as she is from Shandong, they would bao and eat jiaozi.  She wanted to make dumplings tonight but as the day wore on and the task loomed larger she opted to just get some bags of jiaozi that are always just “OK.”  The big day is only seven or so day off.  I suspect we’ll make some real jiaozi then. 

Monday, 01/28/19