Is it unfair to say that Duke Pearson had a
funny face? It’s just a bit elongated, I
suppose, and he always seems a bit hangdog.
But one touch on the ivories and you know it's him. How could that be? Just a note.
A key that anyone could press. Listening
to the 1959 release “Tender Feelings” you just need to absorb the sound of one
single note echoing majestically on “When Sonny Gets Blue” and you know the fingers
belong to him.
The first day in a
while where I don’t have to speak to anyone or sell anyone or entertain
anyone. A few calls this morning, but
they’re done. My younger one just came
home after sleeping over at her older brothers.
She is very, very bummed because her phone isn’t working. I am vacillating between making her very,
very happy all of a sudden and getting her a new one and teaching her a lesson that
money doesn’t grow on trees and there is nothing wrong with getting her old one
fixed . . . again.
The older one is
baking a cake for her boyfriend who is turning nineteen. A friend of hers came over to help her make
it. They were debating whether or not
they should use oil or butter. I commented
that olive oil might have a thick taste.
They considered this. But then,
as I did too, I wasn’t sure if that was really the case. I can smell the cake now, off in the
kitchen. Once it's covered in frosting, who'll know the difference?
I just took a look
to see if there is any interesting music on.
We struck out for music last weekend, and a quick glance doesn’t yield much. There is a “festival” out at the Great Wall, this
weekend, the Ying Yang Festival. There
are a list of people who are performing.
I know none of them. I call my
daughter and her friend in. They take a
look. They don’t know any of them. But they are more open to checking it out than
I figured. They will listen to some of
the acts and let me know. Will I really
go out on a two hour drive to a festival if they are up for it? I suspect I’ll more likely be off to purchase
a phone before long.
Saturday, 6/8/19
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