So much to read…so little time

Thank you to Doug Ramsey a/k/a Rifftides, for introducing me (here) to An Overgrown Path . I may be late to the party, but no less appreciative of the fine sensibilities displayed there. I particularly enjoy the way many of the postings end:

If you enjoyed this post take an overgrown path to ____

The Monday October 10th post, Journey with Jack Reilly , led me to Michel Petrucciani. I knew Michel fairly well, wrote his press bio for Blue Note many years ago, hung out with him and his lady at the Grammy Awards one year, and still enjoy listening to his recordings, including a trio album that was not mentioned along the path – Power of Three features Michel, Jim Hall and Wayne Shorter live at the 1986 Montreux Jazz Festival. If memory serves, it made it to #2 on Billboard’s chart of Top Jazz Albums. The CD appears to be out of print (I saw some used ones at amazon.com), but the DVD is available at Tower, still my store of choice (if you do not know why, read this).

And speaking of Wayne Shorter, I really really need to make time to read Footprints, the Shorter biography by Michelle Mercer. It got lots of rave reviews from critics as well as from friends of Wayne. Deep In A Dream: The Long Night of Chet Baker by colleague James Gavin is also newly added to my reading pile as it was a birthday gift from drummer Michael Stephans.

Enjoy the Journey – II

Did you ever notice that along the left side, in the fourth box down, there are category links that allow you to filter my blog posts. I’ve just added a new category called Quotables, so you can jump to my own DevraDoWrite mini-collection of sayings and quotations. Here’s the second one from Enjoy the Journey (the first one was here):

Know the value of time;
snatch, seize, and enjoy every moment of it.
— Lord Chesterfield

Ken Page

At noon today I will be renewing my acquaintance with Ken Page, a wonderful actor who won a Theatre World Award for his role as Nicely-Nicely Johnson in an all-black revival of Guys and Dolls — and that was his Broadway debut.

Ken’s credits include his role in the original cast of Ain’t Misbehavin (garnering a Drama Desk award), and the role of “Old Deuteronomy” in both New York and London productions of Cats.

I’ve read that he auditioned for Ain’t Misbehavin because a friend of his told him that he looked a lot like Fats Waller; today I’ll find out if that’s true. But mostly, we’ll be talking about Luther Henderson, and how Luther, with choreographer Arthur Faria and the five cast members, envisioned that show.

Writers’ Bible – A New Edition

‘Style’ Gets New Elements is the headline from an article in today’s The New York Times. Just a few years short of its fiftieth birthday, Strunk and White’s enduring rule book, Elements of Style, a thin little paperback packed with text, has become a book of visual art with accompanying music.

In the new clothbound edition, Ms. Kalman’s whimsical paintings are sprinkled through the text, often responding to the wry or quirky examples the authors chose to enliven what might otherwise have been a dry discussion of grammatical rules.

Maira Kalman also envisioned music, so she turned to a young Julliard graduate, Nico Muhly, who has written an “Elements of Style” song cycle which will premiere tonight at 8 PM in the Rose Main Reading Room of the New York Public Library (Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street).

The vocal writing is cast in a distinctly early-music style, the textures as pure and pared down as Strunk and White liked their sentences.

If I were in New York City tonight, that’s where I’d be.

Jump! and Other Birthday Exhortations

This card, which inside reads “Drop everything…it’s party time!” was given to me by Jan, Richard, Jessica, and Christopher. I like to imagine that the frog jumpers shown here are none other than the children’s frogs that I fed while they were on vacation this summer.

Other exhortations were received via email, such as this one sent in to me by she who is Just Muttering By Myself

Live to the fullest extent possible.
Live to learn, and remember that you learn by living.
That is the path to happiness.

Surprise

Disappointed is not a word that could even begin to do justice to what I felt when she said “Panda Inn.” It was Friday evening and I had called my friends to find out where we were to meet for my special birthday dinner the next night. Originally, they were to have chaufeured, but now that my parents had flown in to join us, I needed to drive so I could pick them up at the hotel first. There is nothing wrong with Panda Inn, we go there all the time, but that fact was itself the problem to me: there is nothing at all special about the local Chinese eatery, a place that I feel fine frequenting when clad in jeans.

“Panda Inn?” I repeated. “Umm. Oh. What time?”

I’m sure she heard between the lines, and I kicked myself repeatedly over the next 24-hours for feeling so ungrateful. These were my best friends, friends who saw me through the cancer war, and my parents flew all the way from New York just for a weekend to celebrate my birthday. Wasn’t that special enough?!

When we walked into the restaurant I was trying hard to be upbeat, but I was getting annoyed all over again. It was a crowded Saturday night, and my girlfriend was waiting for us up front to say they had seated us in the back – my least favorite spot in the whole restaurant – and her husband was back there holding the table.

The back room is not huge, but as I scanned the tables I did not see her husband. I was about to ask her “where?” — and then I saw them all in the private room off to the right – more than two dozen of my best friends, neighbors, and even my cousins who live in San Jose. I couldn’t take it all in.

I was truly speechless, a fact which caused great glee for many of my friends who know me to be opinionated and seldom if ever at a loss for words. In addition to my four best girlfriends who had been in cahoots with my mother to pull this off, the Coolidge Avenue gang (a/k/a the neighborhood) was there in force. Others at the table included a longtime friend who I hadn’t seen much since she adopted three children, a friend who writes for the Los Angeles Times, and a couple who I would describe as my newest friends (he’s a contractor and she’s an actress – you’ll hear more about them in weeks to come as he’s the one who is about to refurbish our kitchen/family room).

The food was plentiful – first came the pot stickers and cup of soup, then a steady stream of entrées including honey-walnut shrimp (my personal favorite), Wok-Seared Scallops (or was it the Sizzling Scallops?), a chicken with asparagus dish, Asian Spiced Beef Short Ribs served with fat noodles, Crispy Fish Fillets (very spicy), Sautéed Mixed Vegetables, and more. The birthday cake (a lemon mouse cake) was brought in from my favorite bakery, Patticakes .

In addition to some wonderful gifts that included a to-die-for pearl and diamond necklace that my husband designed, an iPod nano given to me by a coalition of neighbors (I’m the number 2, or maybe number 3, tech guru on the street, but the only one heretofore without an ipod), an issue of Life magazine from 1955 (it cost only 20-cents back then), gift certificates, champagne and wine, and books, one of my friends had collected cards and greetings from friends who lived afar so that they could “be there” too. Well-wishers from afar included pianist Norman Simmons (my Libra brother who wanted to know what took me so long to make it to 50), my friends in Westchester who “adopted” me into their family when I was a moody teenager, and a neighbor of whom I am very fond and miss as she moved away after her husband died. A few of the cards made me teary, and several made me laugh. Most had messages or quotations that I will share with you over the coming days, and two people have promised to send me pictures, so perhaps I’ll post a few snaps on the blog later in the week.

It was truly a special evening.

One Day Left

Tomorrow I turn fifty, so what will I do today-the last-day-of-the-first-half? I thought about not working, not posting to the blog, not doing anything on demand…but that’s not my nature. Most of what I enjoy doing is, in some way, part of my work. My reading generally informs my work (except when I on rare occassion when I “escape” into trade trash novels), and surfing the web is usually for research or at least fodder for thought and possible blog posting. [Speaking of which, Mr. Teachout very serendipitously posted today a particularly pertinent reprise of his August 2004 Antepenultimate posting.] Even playing Free Cell on the computer is usually a trigger for loosening my brain enough to think more creatively about one project or another.

I have a stack of books to read about Duke Ellington, who was a huge influence on Luther Henderson and with whom he worked very closely — books are soon due back at the library, so I’d best get to them quickly. I’ve got a 3000-word article due soon, plans and calls to make in my new role as Minister of Education for the Jazz Journalists Association, and then there are the chores of a personal nature that, being chores, also qualify as work: picking up clothes at the cleaners, picking out a new sink and faucet for the soon-to-be renovated kitchen, and so on. Actually, one thing I have to do today that is not a chore at all is pick up my parents at the airport. They’re coming out for a weekend visit, a mother/daughter spa treatment, and a quiet birthday dinner for six (two friends are joining us) someplace nice, I’m told. By Sunday afternoon, though, I’ll be back at work as I have scheduled a phone interview with choreographer Hope Clark.

Have a nice weekend, see you on Monday.

Once Upon A Monday Night

One Monday night at the Village Vanguard, many years ago, during the third set in front of a packed house so quiet you could hear the proverbial pin drop, Roland Hanna began one of his long ostinato vamps, then slowly wandered his way into a solo selection of his choice. As he played on, intently listening band members were trying to figure out what tune he was playing. Jerry Dodgion nudged Jerome Richardson and whispered, “What is this?” Jerome looked up at the ceiling, listened some more, and finally shrugged. They both looked quizzically at Thad. Thad always knew what tune Roland was playing, no matter how far afield the improvisation. But not that night. That night Roland’s rendition of Body and Soul stumped them all. When the applause finally died down, Thad asked Roland to name that tune, and Roland was actually perturbed that they didn’t get it.

This story from the lore of the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra was told to me a few nights ago by saxophonist Jerry Dodgion, and I should have mentioned Dodgion’s web site when I was pointing out musician sites the other day. Jerry’s leading a group called “The Joy of Sax” (five saxophones and rhythm section) and their first CD is Jerry Dodgion and the Joy of Sax featuring Frank Wess (LSM 101). It can be purchased though CD Baby, where you can also hear a few clips.

Overheard

“It’s becoming more and more less true.”

I heard someone say that on the radio a few days ago. Along the similar lines, Terry Teachout made mention today (here) of a book titled Slam Dunks and No-Brainers: Language in Your Life, the Media, Business, Politics, and, Like, Whatever. I think I’ll read it, too. Then maybe I’ll post the top ten words or phrases that bug me the most.