Playing that bar last night, like so many gigs I did in another lifetime. Same city at night vibe, same young sexy drunk people dancing in front, the same band concerns about free drinks and food. An old job, old as Duke Elington, Art Tatum, Howlin’ Wolf, The Beatles, The Hawks, a trillion more. Reading a biography about Louis Armstrong, when he was twelve he shot his step father’s gun into the sky on New Years Eve. Everyone was making noise, it was New Orleans, it was what one did. It got him busted and removed from his family for two years, a youth jail sorta thing in the country. Torture I thought, but it’s also where he learned coronet though they started him on tambourine. There are amazing tambourinists in the world, but it makes me laugh anyway to read they started him that way. I figured out how to make my own nutritional yeast. This is a big deal, as big a deal as learning yesterday how to make use of a one and two chord arpeggio which resulted in me feeling momentarily related to Bill Evans. I never understood what about his voicings was such a big deal to so many people. Things are sounding a little different now plus I can add nutritional yeast to my fingers which neither he nor Satchmo nor the drunk dancers ever did, and for good reason, it would be a mess, a tasty mess, but a mess.