Trying to better fake my jazz identity. Taking folkier songs and attempting to put different clothes on them. In certain sections it fits nicely but in others it is clumsy and my lack of jazz shows as clearly as the scar on my forehead from the bike accident. I don’t remember much except the velocity I achieved before the crash. I think it was another kid I crashed into. Maybe Charles Kantor? I think when we were 5 he too liked speed and being out of control. President’s choice tricycle memories. I do love speed musically, especially the heights certain people can reach that are impossible and incomprehensible. Blake Brooker said something like that about being on stage, about audiences loving a spectacle. I didn’t know what to think of that at the time, but I agree now. In my charlatan jazz, there are some fast moments but a lot is lacking. I’m mostly thinking about 7th chords and inversions of them. I like 4th chords too and I do not regularly hear people playing jazz that way but they instantly alter the whole salad. Sort of ruins eating greens if you add hot sauce, no? I am looking for how to grated beets or kalamata olives or roasted brussel sprouts or sesame seeds. They will make the salad that much more believable. The guy who originally wrote the folk song I am jazzifying is dead now. But I wonder if he would be amused to hear all this or is rolling over in his urn. My favourite line in one of his songs was “Sammy leave revenge for those who cannot see”. I wish he had lived by it. Nonetheless, as the days turn to weeks and months, my lame jazz is developing at a certain speed. I trust the wind.