PDB

Let’s see if this thing will start. I’m dubious. No one started it all winter — longer than that, actually.

My schedule got turned around; I slept all day. When I woke up, I was having the following dream:

I was in a bar in a city, a mix of Detroit and Boston. It was a sunny, breezy afternoon, and the doors were open to the street.

In the bar, some kind of music class/musical performance was about to start. I was supposed to participate, but didn’t have an instrument, so I was fashioning one from some blocks of wood and a wood clamp. I found a bottle of glue on a ledge and squeezed some on the blocks, then tightened the clamp. I had a little percussion mallet — like the one my kid has for her toy xylophone.

I went outside, ostensibly to test my instrument without bothering the other patrons, but secretly I was thinking this would be an opportunity to slip away and save myself the embarrassment of performing when so completely unprepared. The neighborhood was unfamiliar, however, and I couldn’t orient myself, so I headed back inside for the show.

The conductor/instructor separated us into groups: anyone who could play an instrument and those of us who couldn’t. I was heartened to see I was part of a big group…

The performance was locomotive: about twenty of us moving fast down a long, steep street in some kind of industrial part of the city (as if we were sitting on skateboards…) We were performing a John Coltrane tune. I don’t remember what it was supposed to be, except I remember thinking “It’s not ‘My Favorite Things.’”

Behind me was a talented trombonist. He was really carrying the whole piece. I looked back to smile. He motioned to me and spoke — a black guy with an African or West Indian accent.

“Excuse me; do you know where the Hancock Building is?” he asked. “I have some business there, some paperwork.”

“Sure,” I said, happy to be helpful. I gestured over to the skyline. “There, that green building — do you see it?”

Because of our speed, the building was hard to see — other structures kept getting in the way.

“Here,” I said, “I’ll show you,” thinking that even if he did see it, he probably wouldn’t know how to get there!

At the bottom of the hill, we had to walk through some gravel, climb a chain-link fence, and cross some railroad tracks. We were now on a dirty sidewalk alongside a highway, and I was pretty sure I knew how to get there.

John Coltrane - Locomotion mp3
John Coltrane - My Favorite Things mp3