I'm at peace this morning, or at least I'm experiencing a lull in the battle currently being waged inside my head, the non-stop hatred I possess for the executive branch of our government. I'm listening to a little soft jazz, the '60s genre genius of John Coltrane that I found while surfing blogs in quest of something a little different. Check it out while you're reading: C&L’s Late Nite Music Club with John Coltrane
As I listen, I'm reminded of other times. Coltrane's genius transports me through his multi-dimensional nattering, syncopated rhythms, his absolute 'thinking outside the box' representation of complex themes. In the background I feel the Manhattan taxi lurch forward, change lanes, then come to a complete stop before starting all over again. Meanwhile, I smell the curry lingering from the driver's lunch and the unmistakable acrid invasion of odor from the front seat, the sharp jabbing ambience of his armpits. But as I roll down the window, I'm coddled with the unintended symphony of beeping taxi horns and the occasional warning of a trash truck backing up, all layered on top of the drone produced by traffic's internal combustion engines. It's city sound... it's vox populi.
It changes, migrates-- even morphs-- and at times, you might suspect that one or more of the players listens to only his own muse; but it is genius, the tension it builds is released in a feeling of true peace which must be what some religious people apparently sometimes get.
4 comments:
Wow, it's almost as if you were sitting next to me on the bench in downtown Pittsburgh this weekend...listening to the sounds of the city as I gazed across the river and up the Duquesne Incline where my eyes rested on the beautiful St. Mary's on the Hill cathedral...the only thing missing was Coltrane.
Nice piece, Bob! Thank you.
You didn't see the little man who staggered by and asked you if you'd care to see a goiter up close? If you'd have stuck around instead of calling for a cop, you'd have met me then...
Sorry about that, I was just kidding... just a little inner-city color... (it's actually just a fistula, not a real goiter).
I'm just catching up with my reading. Karen, congratulations--you spelled Duquesne perfectly. Not everybody can do that. ;) Oh, and that's "St. Mary's of the Mount" (Mount Washington). This concludes our Pittsburgh pop quiz. Now, Bob, nobody in Pittsburgh has goiters or fistulas for that matter. We're all perfect. What? you say that was you with the goiter. Well, that's a different story. No, I don't want to see it up close either. Sheesh!
Are you kidding? It couldn't possibly me... good taste and breeding prohibits me from ever visiting the area. (Well, good taste, breeding and an active "shoot on sight" warrant, I should say)
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