I upended the mailbag yesterday, and here’s some of what fell out:
– “I get my news from the Internet exclusively now. I graze, I move from site to site, follow links to interesting stories, etc. And I haven’t watched a major network news show in 15 years–when the Dan Rather flapdoodle about the forged memo hit the net and I got to see some pix of Dan, I was shocked–Jesus, he looks old and ugly. Then I realized, I hadn’t seen his mug since 1990. Yeah, it is a revolution, and I am glad to see it. But I do miss the act of picking up a paper every day and reading it on the train to work.”
– “I’d appreciate help completing the following sentence: ‘If you like Duke Ellington’s Never No Lament
and Count Basie’s The Atomic Mr. Basie, you’ll love —– .’ Also, what are the quintessential Louis Armstrong recordings to get my nascent jazz collection moving in that direction?”
The second question is easy. If you don’t have any Armstrong, start with Sony’s The Essential Louis Armstrong, a two-CD set containing 37 tracks, most of which are in fact either essential Armstrong or close to it.
As for the first question, I know where my correspondent is coming from, but I’m not sure where–or how far–he wants to go. That being the case, I’ll point in opposite directions. For a taste of one of the classic big bands of the Thirties at its hottest, try Benny Goodman’s On the Air (1937-1938). For a taste of state-of-the-art big-band music circa right this minute, try Bob Brookmeyer’s Get Well Soon. No promises, but both CDs are personal favorites of mine.
– “I am too lazy to go back to your post to find the exact wording, but if memory serves me even reasonably well, you wrote
that recently you had a difficult time enjoying breakfast because a rather harsh voice was distracting you in the extreme. Years ago I met a man who was introducing me to the gustatory joys of sushi. Up until that time I guess I had a preconceived notion that I wouldn’t enjoy the food. He then said rather wisely, at least I thought it wise, ‘Don’t let your head get in the way of your stomach.’ The words hit me over the head like a jackhammer through concrete….So, Mr. Teachout, keep writing your wonderful blog, and don’t let your ears get in the way of your stomach.”
That’s good advice, and like all good advice, it’s easier heard than taken. Nevertheless, I’ll do my damnedest.
– “I have quite recently become enamored of your blog, but when today you mentioned
having been in New York for twenty years (thus allowing me to extrapolate your actual age), I was puzzled despite myself. I know you’re not in your twenties anymore, but somehow I cannot shake the feeling that I’m reading the reflections of a young man-about-town in his native New York. I will attribute this to the freshness and vitality of your observations and commentary even after years spent critiquing the arts. Kudos to you and Our Girl for an enlightening blog that still manages to be far from a chore to read. It’s a rare find in the arts world.”
– “Consider this quote: ‘No matter how long you have been here, you are a New Yorker the first time you say, That used to be Munsey’s, or That used to be the Tic Toc Lounge…when what was there before is more real and solid than what is here now’ (Colson Whitehead, The Colossus of New York: A City in Thirteen
Parts). And congratulations on your remarkable career!”
– “I am on the cusp of sixty and can advise you that the nostalgia attacks continue unexpected and acute.”
Thanks to you all for the kind words–and the warning.