Tuesday, January 28, 2014


     I got to the halfway point on my journey and was greeted by a sax player doing a kicking version of "The girl from Ipanema."  Happiness on two levels.
     My mom played the saxophone in high school, and she often talked about it.  She wanted to play the clarinet, but she got the sax instead.  Something about the luck of the draw in a small town and breath support between the two instruments.  Her stories always involved her lugging it back and forth for band practice.  Even though she didn't play around us (I'm pretty sure she'd had to pawn the instrument early on in her marriage), I loved listening to her stories. 
     Second, that song in particular is my own private elevator music when I'm bored by what someone is telling me/forcing me to listen to.  (Some of you out there have heard my discuss this in the past.). It's like when the adults are speaking in Charlie Brown ... Instead of a wah wah, my brain plays "The girl from Ipanema."

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