That was incredibly magnanimous of you. Not sure I could be so forgiving so readily. A great story, perfect ending. For some reason the first video just says 'Video not available'. Maybe cos I'm in UK.
It was out of character. Though in college, I was still a child. For some reason, when he said those words: "I was cold," I knew immediately that they were true. The collection--the rebuilt one, the more perfect one--was gone, and I too survived. Now, if that had been my book collection...
Thanks for the comment. The video was just a still picture of the album cover for "Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, Straight Ahead," and a recording of the tune "Blues Up and Down."
Beautiful writing. As a musician, I was right there with you in shock and righteous anger as you stomped up the hill to Ed’s house. The ending though, the twist - changes everything. Well done.
You know Renee, as I was writing that indignation came back to me, as did the warm remembrance of the man. Most of all (and I do not think that this comes through in the piece), my forgiveness was born of thankfulness. He had been an exceptional teacher, not just in science class, but in what he taught me about jazz.
So true - great teachers are a gift, and so often they are unaware of their impact. Like a chord that rings out long after it has been struck, sometimes people's early impact on our lives continues to resonate far into adulthood. (I must be feeling the music metaphors today!)
Well, that's true friendship. Remember the movie, Love Story? "Love means never having to say you're sorry." Something like that.
You might like the post today on Thinkopolis. It's called "The 40,000 Year Old Man." (Thanks, Carl Reiner.) It starts with a killer accapella rendition of Hava Nagila - wish I could play the whole thing.
That was incredibly magnanimous of you. Not sure I could be so forgiving so readily. A great story, perfect ending. For some reason the first video just says 'Video not available'. Maybe cos I'm in UK.
It was out of character. Though in college, I was still a child. For some reason, when he said those words: "I was cold," I knew immediately that they were true. The collection--the rebuilt one, the more perfect one--was gone, and I too survived. Now, if that had been my book collection...
Thanks for the comment. The video was just a still picture of the album cover for "Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, Straight Ahead," and a recording of the tune "Blues Up and Down."
Books: that would be a step too far. I shall have to look up those numbers. One of my favourites is A Minor Sax by sonny stitt
Beautiful writing. As a musician, I was right there with you in shock and righteous anger as you stomped up the hill to Ed’s house. The ending though, the twist - changes everything. Well done.
You know Renee, as I was writing that indignation came back to me, as did the warm remembrance of the man. Most of all (and I do not think that this comes through in the piece), my forgiveness was born of thankfulness. He had been an exceptional teacher, not just in science class, but in what he taught me about jazz.
So true - great teachers are a gift, and so often they are unaware of their impact. Like a chord that rings out long after it has been struck, sometimes people's early impact on our lives continues to resonate far into adulthood. (I must be feeling the music metaphors today!)
Well, that's true friendship. Remember the movie, Love Story? "Love means never having to say you're sorry." Something like that.
You might like the post today on Thinkopolis. It's called "The 40,000 Year Old Man." (Thanks, Carl Reiner.) It starts with a killer accapella rendition of Hava Nagila - wish I could play the whole thing.
On my way to the 'Polis as we speak.