This kind man brought it in to my shop for me. i didn't ask him to. He just thought I should blow it. Sweet man, looks like a thin God.You know, slight, long hair, long white beard, jacked up loose linen ballooning pants = really fucking cool. Really softly spoken, seems to puts a soft laughter spin on every utterance. I'm a sucker for that. I really like this guy. He drums for 'Drums of Resistance' whatever, it's pretty cool for a dude in his sixties. He wrote me a note incase i knew any drummers, or people that want to drum. He scrawled the Drums of Resistance weekly rehearsal meet, he put: "Rehearsal 7 (more like 7.30)" which i thought was cute.
He brought Joseph Jarman's melodica in to me because he was in the shop when I was playing AEC. Told me then that he put them on several times in the sixties. Said they requested Spanish prostitutes on their rider. This guy, you know he's lived a life. You can just feel it from him. I could tap him up for all kinds of story. could grill him ask him a bunch of flat questions. But I just like it that he pops up, random. Dude yields! Quietly.
So he brings it in, melodica, in it's battered case, puts the mouthpiece on it. Melodica is thin, black, he's so amused that a key is missing. He passes me this beautiful thing and tells me to blow on it. Passed to me like some sort of bong-of-wisdom. Fuck yeah. I don't care that the mouthpiece skanks. I blow and play something short and flunky. Pass it to him, he does the same. Spiritual or what? Ha Ha. Fuck you. This is treasure to him. He shared it. Puts it back in his case. This is someone else's thing. We just got a short quick hit on someone else's magic.
"They've all blown on it" he says.
You know when you feel the breeze and you need it and it's so insanely welcome?