The Talent Scout

It was three o’clock in morning, a cold winter day in New York City, he had left the Jazz club, and turned on the radio in his car.

He scanned the radio stations, listening.  Then he heard it.

It was something new.

He knew natural talent when he heard it.

His ear was incomparable and he knew who and how to promote them.

From Billie Holiday to Bennie Goodman to Pete Seeger to Bob Dylan to Bruce Springsteen: generations of musicians. The Ultimate HIP.

But he looked like a square.

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What a Wonderful World

His singing was gravelly and raspy.

He hadn’t been allowed in the front door of opportunity.

I see trees of green…….. red roses too 
I see em bloom….. for me and for you 
And I think to myself.… what a wonderful world.

He had worked hard all his life.

But he didn’t care

His work was fun, for he was the ultimate Entertainer.

He sang and played in a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue….. clouds of white 
Bright blessed days….dark sacred nights 
And I think to myself …..what a wonderful world.

For a man who knew the Blues…  The Blues of the Segregrated South.

And Boy, that man could blow that Gabriel horn.

Where in the world did all that Jass come from?

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The Natural

Most of us struggle to find what we do best: natural talent and circumstance is not aligned.

But on this rare occasion, he could hear it, clearly — from the beginning.

There is geometry in the humming of the strings,
there is music in the spacing of the spheres.
Pythagoras

For he was a Natural.

A Composer that became a composer, from the start.

God  bless the child,
who’s got his own.
Billy Holiday

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