Tomorrow a momentous event is occurring: I’m celebrating it with two gigs, which is actually how I would be spending the day even if it wasn’t an anniversary of my birth.
I’m not one of those who shy away form celebrating his birthday. While it’s true I am now one year more removed from the salad days of my 20s and one step closer to the grave, there is an important facet of the birthday not to be overlooked: Presents.
Folks you have to milk it. Need a new shirt? A new set of linen? A beer? A chocolate cake? Strike a pose and drop a hint. It’s go time!
Now right about now, you’re probably wondering, ‘How can I, the mere blog-reader, contribute to Keitho’s birthday celebration?‘ Well I’m glad you asked.
Go to this link: www.keithospresent.kickstarter.com
And remember, linen always makes a great gift.
Wayne Shorter was born on August 25th too, as well as Leonard Bernstein, Rollie Fingers and Fred Frink. (a baseball player form the 20s)
Naked Trump statues are happening, and apparently in more than one city. There’s one in the Castro district of San Francisco, as well as four other cities. That’s what you get when you brag about the size of your penis in the age of the smarmy internet.
That said, I am more amused than offended by the statue. In fact I’m not offended at all. What has offended me is an incurious, docile media that has treated this man as if he was a serious, qualified candidate. Too many articles take Trump’s proposed policies seriously rather than question the hubris and sanity of the man.
You’ve got a media that is in the pockets of corporate America, and in Trump, a ratings bonanza. This is not a good recipe. It is not in the media’s interest to question the man or to report on an America that is decidedly more racist than was previously imagined.
If all that is left for us plebes is to engage in locker room humor then I say bring it on!
Sometimes the most strenuous part of gigging is getting to the venue. The playing of the gig is often times the easiest thing we do. Of course there are tens of thousands of hours of practice that we draw on, but for the most part when good musicians play together ideas tend to flow easily.
On Saturday I played at the San Jose jazz festival with local Bay Area legend, saxophonist Noel Jewkes. San Jose is an hour south of where I live in the East Bay (Albany, which is next to Berkeley) but with traffic it’s usually at least a 90 minute trip. (Our gig was only slightly longer than 90 minutes!) At the conclusion of the gig we were interviewed by some jocks from the local jazz station, KCSM, one of whom is an outstanding sax player in his own right, Patrick Wolff.
On Sunday I drove down to San Luis Obispo to play with my former teacher, vibraphonist Charlie Shoemake, and my former band mate, trumpeter Joe Magnarelli. I studied with Charlie when I was in high school – from 1975-78. Before that I had studied classical piano for 8 years. I had become disenchanted and wanted to quit the piano when my mother heard of a teacher who specialized in jazz improvisation. I agreed to give it a try almost instantly I was hooked. The fact that I had a classical background, had good technique, and knew my scales was a boon to me. It gave me a leg up on learning how to negotiate chord changes. Charlie was a great teacher and just the right person for me at that time in my life. He introduced me to the music of Bud Powell, Charlie Parker, Sonny Rollins, and Miles Davis among others. These are people I never would have been exposed to in my suburban California upbringing. Perhaps I would have discovered them in college or as an adult, but I just as likely could have stuck with Jethro Tull and Yes. I dodged a bullet there.
Here’s a jaw-dropping version of My Favorite Things as played by the John Coltrane Quintet circa 1965. Music doesn’t get any better than this.
In particular I was blown away by pianist, McCoy Tyner’s, solo. I’m going to show this to all my young students who play flat handed. You can see that true power and finesse comes from above. (No, I’m not speaking religiously here. Get your mind out of the church!) Tyner drops his hands onto the keyboard rather than pushing his fingers into the keys.
Technique aside, McCoy’s solo is like a lesson in harmony and rhythm. He takes the lone E minor chord and superimposes dorian, phrygian, harmonic minor, and diminished modes over it. (among others!) These modes are interwoven into his barrage of left hand 5ths and right hand 4ths, and are simultaneously rhythmically and harmonically transcendent.
Compare this version with one performed four years earlier to see and hear the evolution of one of the greatest groups in the history of jazz.
Is there a more bullshit sporting event than the Olympics? What a joke. The networks package idiotic sports that nobody gives a rats ass about into a barrage of human interest, kumbaya dreck. Nobody cares about track and field. NOBODY. Ooh! Who won the 400 meter swimming party? WHO CARES!
I’ll tell you how you know the Olympics are a sham. We send NBA athletes. That’s right, next week you can tune in to a great prime time basketball event: USA v Luxembourg.
If you are a fan of the Dream Team going back to the original I have no respect for you. Zilch. You’re the kind of person that would spike a volleyball onto the head of a 5 year old and follow it up with a fist pump and a Howard Dean-esque scream. You’re probably a Trump fan but you could just as easily be for Hillary. They’re both Olympic-worthy.
Come to think of it there *is* a more bullshit sporting event than the Olympics. It’s called The Winter Olympics.
The World According to Keitho 