- A long time ago, a trip to New York City, where we stayed in the wonderful Hotel Chelsea and visited, among so many other cool places, the Village Vanguard.
- A few years ago, a book by Adam Gopnik titled Paris to the Moon, guaranteeing Mr. Gopnik a fan in me for life.
- Over the years, an appreciation - if not love - for jazz.
I'm home now and I am listening to that recording, Sunday at the Village Vanguard, as I type this. My living room is dark, it's almost 1 A.M. and I should be sleeping. But the music plays, and I am back in NYC and I can see that wonderful jazz haven, its steps descending from the street and into that room of so much rich jazz history. The glasses clink, the small audience claps - and chatters - and I remember being there as if I can still smell the cigarette smoke on my clothes.
More about that trip later. Now, Adam Gopnik on Bill Evans and That Sunday. You have 30 minutes.
2 comments:
In the late stages of my Dad's Parkinson's (the really cranky stage) I took him to his hometown of NYC for one last trip. We didn't stay at the Chelsea (Dad wasn't a big Sid and Nancy fan...) but we did bluff our way past a long line to get into the Vanguard to hear Marcus Roberts from 15 feet away.
Cranky Dad almost got in a fistfight with a patron across the table from us because he was smoking. I was fairly mortified, and calmed the situation down by reminding Dad that this was a JAZZ club and telling the smoker to please calm down and not kick my 70 year old Dad's ass.
Then after everything settled down, my Dad grumbled a little bit too loudly, "Yeah, go ahead and smoke...ASSHOLE!"
Sure would have liked to have heard the end of Marcus' set...
Great story. I could see the whole thing. ;)
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