I love this old school jazz, especially the stuff (no pun intended) with the vocals. With the Ken Burns thing being forced down my throat (I personally haven�t been following the television programs, but I have the book, and am particularly intrigued by it, as I can flip through the channels late at night and see Coleman Hawkins ripping How High the Moon? and Wynton Marsalis, aside from not being one of my favorites, is pretty intelligent when it comes to jazz, and is honest to a point) you would think I�m just listening to this because it�s the thing to do right now, I�ll have you know that I�ve grown a special love of this stuff (again, no pun intended) in the past couple of years. I would definitely recommend going to Tower and picking up any CD�s in the jazz section on the label Classics records. The CD�s all have similar packaging a simple circle with the artists face in the middle in a smaller circle and usually a date, or date range. I�ve discovered some great stuff by some of the real early heroes that weren�t really household names like Mezz Mezrow, Slim Gaillard, Bunny Berrigan, Jimmy Lunceford, as well as more well known folks like Coleman Hawkins, Satchmo, Sidney Bechet, Ella, Stuff Smith, and Teddy Wilson. The packaging is a little bland, and there isn�t much info past a brief, generic history, but you get comprehensive listings of session dates, and sidemen to make up, oh and the music�

All of my time is now spent with work, the band and Angela on my mind, not necessarily in that order. Work has, and will continue to be very busy in more than one aspect, negotiating a contract at the bargaining table, while ironically being bargained out of the contract into management, along with another girl who is on the labor side, like myself. Anyway, we have two more sessions at the table, next week, and we have been told it could take �through the night, until dawn� You hear these horror stories about union negotiations sitting at tables for 200 hours in a row, which I am experiencing first hand now. This along with training some new people, is making me clumsy at work I guess would be the word. I feel like I�m beside myself. Then, next weekend, we record. I will be completely exhausted, but it appears that with Saturday, some sort of closure will occur, and I can relax a little more. I haven�t had the time or energy to be social, not making many phone calls, and not writing much, here, in private, or e-mails. I feel like this phase is almost gone, and I will be even more positive feeling than I am generally anyway.

I lose my mind from time to time. Upon leaving for work this morning, I thought I heard the fire alarm going off in my house, Angela didn�t believe me, and it was too cold to stand outside any longer. I figured if my house was burning down, someone would call me at some point in the day. I would be upset if that first pressing of James Browns� Cold Sweat LP on King was destroyed though, as well as my Misfits records.

I watched a documentary on the Church of John Coltarne the other day. Those people are great, a little strange but�I sort of get where they�re coming from. I feel like I let out some spirits when I play sometimes. There is a certain sound you experience that is akin to I don�t know�I�ll sound to new agey if I continue. Trust me, music heals.

The soundtrack was the Rolling Stones, the Rolling Stones, and more Rolling Stones. I enjoy them now, fuck eveyone who hates the Stones recorded output up until Tattoo You, and a couple of songs on Emotional Rescue.

I have no idea where I would be without John �Ozzy� Osbourne, Tony Iommi, Bill Ward, and Anthony �Geezer� Butler.

Late at night, when I have unplanned appointments with cool bathroom floors, I throw on a Cocteau Twins record (Treasure, Heaven or Las Vegas perhaps) and everything seems to work out.

Bob Dylan taught me to never pay attention to lyrics in music�unless he wrote them.

Iggy and the Stooges found me recently, where was I hiding for so many years?

You have no excuse if you haven�t spent a night with the Velvet Underground.

I need sleep, less rock and roll. Look, I never said I was perfect. My head feels like your ceiling looks right now.

before & after