Jazzletter PO Box 240, Ojai CA 93024-0240
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Gene Leer jazzletter PO Box 240, Ojai CA 93024-0240 December 2000 Vol 19 No. 12 If the Jazzletter carmot continue monthly, perhaps Mail Bag quarterly or some other arrangement might be considered. As long as I’m here, I’ll be on the subscription list! On a selfish note, I’m only fifty-one. What will I read now? — Tracy Borst, Alhambra, California As a trumpet player, I miss the sounds of Gozzo, Klein, Snooky Young in modern lead players. Notice how the Although we understand completely your reasons for modern guys sound like machines? wanting to call it quits, we (and thousands like us) devoutly Ed Kalney, Rockville Centre, New York hope that you won’t. You are our hero, and we selfishly want you to continue brightening our lives. I can’t say I look forward to your hanging them up, but —— Eddie Higgins and Meredith d’Ambrosio, Wilton Man- it is understandable. Next year, I hope, you will reconsider. ors, Florida — Charles Sweningsen, Edina, Minnesota I am shocked that you are retiring the Jazzletter next Chuck was the editor who bought afirst articlefi'om me year. Twenty-five is a better number. I’m having too much for Down Beat. That was about 1949, and I was thrilled. fun reading the issues. Ifyou must, you must, but we would rather you poured out your soul on a monthly basis for jazz. Say it isn’t so! —— David Klingman — Jules Chaikin, Studio City, California Your recent Jazzletter mailing was most welcome, So many people said this that Ifeel like Shoeless Joe explaining why abstract painting and modem classical music Jackson. leave me cold. Long ago, when I was a young man, I used to listen to classical music on Sunday morning. I knew nothing I cannot imagine life without the Jazzletter to look about it, but I enjoyed it. At some point, I abandoned the forward to. Do I understand? You bet — as a writer, editor, practice. Now I believe that it was the new music which musician, I know the joys of contribution to the stream of drove me ofl'. I look to music to engage me emotionally, and musical knowledge and the weariness that comes with while not all jazz does this, now only jazz does. meeting multiple deadlines. Blessings on you for your You may recall that I threatened to have you knee- extraordinary achievements. Ifyou must let the Jazzletter go capped when last you announced an end to the Jazzletter. No at the end of twenty years, so be it. I’m happy to have been such threat this time. Not that I will miss the Jazzletter any among the subscribers (since 1988) and treasure my collec- less, but twenty years and two million words may be enough. tion ofJazzletters. No words can thank youenough. I noted, however, the wafiling “I think”. Whenever you quit, — Sandra Hyslop, Minneapolis, Minnesota you’ll leave a diverse body of fine work that will stand well as a knowledgeable testament for music, and for your Sandra hasjust written a play about Roland Hayes that attention to other subjects when passion demanded. will be hosted in March by the Detroit Public Library. Not that I have always agreed with you, but I have always learned from the Jazzletter: I own the complete I’m not surprised you want to stop, but a lot of people work, and intend to revisit it ofien. I discover something new will be sorry. at each reading. Your writing is heavy with content, but I’m -—— James Lincoln Collier, New York City sure you’ve heard that before. And, your free-association- like writing is not disconcerting, as I can usually follow your I have every issue and will treasure them always. Hang calculated literary meanderings. on to the mailing list so you can tell your friends news of Ifthis year is to be your last, thank you. It has been one yourself and anything else you may write. helluva ride. But surely you are not written out. — Earl R. McCandless, Edmond, Oklahoma — Allen Hall, South Haven, Minnesota I am in the middle of reading Arranging the Score. I ordered me back for an echocardiogram. He looked at the finished Gerry Mulligan last night. As with Kenny Wheeler, results and said, “I want you in the hospital.” Wondering Percy Faith, Robert Famon, and Gil Evans, I am unwilling when I could find the time for this, I said, “When?” to go to the next subject until my emotions settle. I need a He said, “Now.” chance to digest the feeling these essays bring up. Once And forty-five minutes later I was in hospital in Santa again you have touched me where I live; the intimate sharing Barbara. He ran more tests, and then I signed some paper of heart and soul with the music as the medium. that permitted bypass surgery, and next morning sank into The love I have for some of the musicians I have played oblivion under anesthetic. I didn’t get the bypass, but I got with, a few for almost thirty years, is a source of inspiration, something called a stent (I had never heard the term, and I motivation, and just plain feeling good. You have reminded can’t find a root for it), a metal thingy inserted from the me that this (usually unspoken) bond grows out of comrnu- groin to the heart, where it is inflated into an open position nity purely and with like purpose. The bond is the purpose and locked into place to press back the plaque in an artery. and the purpose is the bond. As I approach the fifly-year I have no memory of the procedure. But I was awake only milestone, I have become aware that my blessings begin with minutes when I realized I could breathe. life on and offthe bandstand ir1 relationships where the sum One ofthe first persons to phone me in the hospital was is greater than the parts. My family and making music Steve Allen, who had some time earlier undergone surgery exemplify the gifl. Thank you for sharing your friendships to clear one of the carotid arteries. He said, “I was worried in a way that makes me laugh with a lump in my throat and about your color at least a year ago.” tears in my eyes. I later told my doctor: “I think you and Dr. Brown saved —— Bill Bryson, Brooklyn, New York my life.” With only a slight smile, he said, “Yes.” Sasha and Zamani “How long did I have?” “That’s hard to say. But it was coming.” There have been many such letters, all of them moving. But The change was astounding. I found my mind working you just don’t get it. You owe me nothing; I owe you more differently. The weariness and enshrouding indifference than I can ever tell. You have given me freedom to think were gone. A fi'iend said, “Do you think this was the reason thoughts all the way through, taking as much time and space you decided to shut the Jazzletter down?” as they require. I have the luxury of extended research. I suspect so. But there are other things I want to do and I designed the JL from the begirming to be a letter — not I have by no means decided to continue it beyond 2001. a magazine article, not a news story. A direct personal There are non-musical subjects on which I want to write; and communication. This has permitted me the further luxury of as it is, I have stretched the patience of those who want to seeming digression: to venture out into parallel terrain, find read only about jazz. I must admit that I don’t care to have out what is there that is pertinent, and bring it back. I think such persons in the readership anyway. that this is an influence ofjazz on my writing. If the fun of Maybe I’ll write a few songs; I haven’t written songs in it communicates to the reader, great! years. Or get back to writing fiction, though I don’t even The mail had all the more effect on me since I read a lot read it nowadays. I have limited interest in imaginary lives. of it in a hospital. For some time I had felt my energy And I want to write a piece on the irrational U.S. drug waning. I attributed this to the ravages of time. If I felt laws. Steve Allen and I had been in consultation for months breathless afier even a short walk, I attributed this to post- about this. He had accumulated a thick file on evidence for polio syndrome. (I am one of those who recovered from the legalization of marijuana, which even William F. childhood polio only to discover that it often has late-in-life Buckley favors. Steve sent me this file in a thick black three- effects. It is an exclusive club to which I would just as soon ring binder, and I photocopied it. I believe that federal policy not belong.) Ifmy ankles were sometimes puffy, I thought it has only increased the epidemic of drug dependency. I might be the chemicals in modem wines, so I gave them up. became aware of the problem more than forty years ago, Doctors on the subscription list (and next to musicians, they because of the use of heroin in jazz. are the largest group) are raising eyebrows as they read this.