Playing In The Playground!!

The title is a musical phrase my nephew uses when he jams with all his childhood buddies. He's lived in Pasadena, CA all his life (50+ years) in the Black neighborhood. The majority of his friends are Black and if you think you will never meet anyone famous your mistaken. His "playground" is full of musicians that boggles your mind!

All this conversation with my nephew came about when I told him that I had run into my old pal, Broken Fingers Malone" here in Bullhead City just recently. Broken Fingers and I jammed some 40 years ago in the La Puente/Pomona area of L. A. County. And I recounted this in an earlier blog titled "The Second Coming of Broken Fingers Malone".

Our memories go way back to a time when R&B and Soul was the music. I'm talking Otis Redding, James Brown and the likes of Carlos Santana. These were the tunes and bands of choice to play in clubs. We had a great band and we were once scouted by an agent that walked into this club we were playing and wanted to sign us to a contract to play in Las Vegas in the casino lounges. It was never to be.

My conversation with Broken Fingers was a kinda loose plan to "get together"!! Two days later I got a call from my pal and we jammed together that Saturday night. His talent centered around a Gibson electric acoustic guitar. When I arrived at his "pad" I walk into his studio and there was the old guitar of long ago. I looked at it and remembered. They were the thoughts of an old man playing music in the past and encountering the musical instrument that spawned those great memories.

Broken Fingers new talent was now his keyboard. He sat down and started doing some original compositions. They were what I always loved. Latin Jazz fusion. It was like meeting an old date. An old love, as it were. Broken Fingers talents have always amazed me. We cruised into a soiree just like old times. I swear it seemed like 1966 popped into his studio and our brains and bodies shifted to 25 y. o. once again. It was worthy of a Ray Bradbury short story where that stuff happens.

The night was filled with soft boleros that just seemed to make our hands glide on the piano keys and the congas. The congas I used that night were Jazz LP congas. The kind Louis Conte uses. Hey, I thought I sounded like Louis Conte. And it was like the 40 years that escaped from our music pal life suddenly rushed in. It was like it was never gone.

I mean, what are the chances that your going to run into a friend 40 years later in a remote area of Arizona where the the lizards are kept busy escaping Road Runners and the Colorado River swiftly sails by in a trance like swiftness cool and astoundingly clear.

We will jam again tomorrow night and a report will come forthwith!