Life since the last update has been fairly routine, if by routine one means a seemingly endless succession of inpatient chemo sessions punctuated by deep exhaustion, malaise, and occasional mild bouts of tummy tumult.

The last round of standard chemo left me pretty well flattened, a piece of unidentifiable road kill sprawled on the sofa, incapable of following a thought for more than a few seconds at a time. It was as though I were looking at a huge, jostling crowd from above, everyone wearing big, yellow hats with nothing to distinguish one from another. Then, one person would take off their hat and I would try to follow that person/thought. But no matter how hard I would try to concentrate, the damned thought would put the yellow hat back on and start trying to hide. Then another would take off the yellow cap for a few seconds before hiding. Ad infinitum. read more

Or maybe I’m a dog that lost his bite.

The first six weeks of chemo were relatively uninteresting. Fatigued, but not hammered in the fashion all those movies of the week and after school specials had me expecting. I thought I was special, that rare creature immune to the horrors. Everything would work exactly as planned, mirabile dictu, I am healed! read more

Dear Bill,

Your wife introduced us a few weeks ago, just after the Bill Frisell Harmony performance at the Big Ears Festival. I had just finished sobbing over the “We Shall Overcome” arrangement, so not at my most composed. I tried to express a sliver of what your work has meant to me, but it did not come out quite as clarion clear as I had hoped. You were gracious even as you seemed baffled by my prattling. read more

From the moment Big Ears announced their grand themes for 2019 – anniversary celebrations for the Art Ensemble of Chicago and ECM Records – it was clear that this year’s hullabaloo would occasion extended reflection on my not-yet-long-enough life of digging into music.

Add in my approaching 60th and the 35th anniversary of my betrothal to Stanwyck (still my best move ever). Now toss in the daughter graduating from university and the son off and away to same. Way too many milestones converging to avoid some deep recapitulation of where I’ve been and where I’m going, not to mention how the various wheel spokes and dangling strands have managed to, somehow, add up to something that looks like a coherent narrative. Despite the fact that the whole shebang has been something of an improvisatory tap dance all along. read more