Don't forget this...

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TheJazzWorkshop.Blogspot.com

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Bummin' Around

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I'm so over work on the real. My last day was Friday. Goodbye to AmeriCorps! It was a pleasure serving you, America - eliminating poverty and the like - but I must be goin' now. Well I'm on my way. I don't know where I'm going. I'm taking my time but I don't know where. I awoke early this morning before the sun had risen. A faint glow could be seen in the eastern sky and only the most brightest stars were still alight in the sky. I walked off the porch (where I'd been sleeping) and looked for the moon, but the moon had sunk too far west and was blocked by the neighbor's house (the same neighbor who keeps complaining to the city that our chicken coop is on their property). Chris, me roomie, told me of a lunar eclipse, but because the moon wasn't in view, I went back to the couch on the porch and lay down watching the dawn get on. Later in the morning, after I'd been to the bank and the post office to arrange for my impending trip - oh, did I m...
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Chillin' on the porch.

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Last week me and the boys were sittin' out on the porch, tryin' to stay cool through that 90 degree October heat wave. And I see this guy walk by on the other side of the street and he's carrying a camera with him lookin' all around and especially at us up on the porch. So then I see him a little later walking the opposite way down my side of the street and I said to the gang, "That guy wants to take our picture." Well, Chris Zdinak (fellow co-oper) invites him up on the porch and he gets to work snapping those pics. So then, Thursday we're all having our weekly potluck dinner and who shows up but the photographer (I've forgotten his name). Well, he hands me a CD with the pics he took and I said, "I'm gonna put these up on the old blog." So, for your viewing pleasure: Me and Wes Fillipo and Chris Z. We were having a musical jam session. Ryan was pickin' that banjo. Check out his emerald ash borer tattoo. I was jammin' a toy harmon...
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Stalking the Wild Alligator, part I

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In the flat, coastal lands of Florida, one can barely step outside his door without falling into a swamp, and should he manage to avoid the murky waters, he will take not one more step before noticing some unabashed bird or reptilian take full advantage of the natural abundance. Indeed, as I write these words, I look out the window and see dark ripples spreading across the surface of a pond, and having now two weeks to feel the dirt and smell the air near Tampa, Florida, I can imagaine a few choice critters from which the ripples may radiate. Out in the full moon of a Gulf Coast night, with the stink of decaying plants wafting off the wetlands, the King of all predators glides without sound down through the millenia. I intend to meet him, if from a distance - a cautious yet thrilling distance. To that end, earlier this week, I studied what I could of this environment. The Cabbage Palm, state tree of Florida. It can be distinguished from other palms by observing th...
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