Sunday, October 19, 2014
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Saturday, October 11, 2014
I once compared his inimitable piano style to the drunken kung fu master. Here he is with Gerry Mulligan on sax, playing his "'Round Midnight," listed as the most-recorded jazz standard composed by a jazz musician.
This tune should always be listened to after the sun sets, never before.
Friday, October 10, 2014
I'm sitting on the deck with the parrot. I'm rereading The Third Rumpole Omnibus. He's eating his half of a fortune cookie. (His fortune: "EXPRESS YOURSELF. DO SOMETHING CREATIVE.")
Traditionally, he hears it before I do, but this time I heard it first: Geese, heading south, in formation. I look at the parrot. The parrot looks at me.
What most people think of as a parrot's shoulders are actually his wrists. He shrugs his wrists at me.
"I can live with the rain, and I suppose I don't really mind it getting colder. But I wish it didn't have to get dark so early."
I could only nod in agreement. Tonight it'll be dark by a little after seven. In ten weeks it'll be dark at around four thirty. Both of us need the sunlight more, the older we get. I suggest we're like an old Simon and Garfunkel tune. He gives me the parrot equivalent of the fish eye.
Two nonmigratory bipeds, separated by over seventy million years of evolution, both waiting for April.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
In many of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer Eastern Rim of the Galaxy, the Hitchhiker's Guide has already supplanted the great Encyclopaedia Galactica as the standard repository of all knowledge and wisdom, for though it has many omissions and contains much that is apocryphal, or at least wildly inaccurate, it scores over the older, more pedestrian work in two important respects. First, it is slightly cheaper; and secondly it has the words DON'T PANIC inscribed in large friendly letters on its cover.