jamsession birdmad all of us then sixteen years old saxophone in hand three drummers a trumpet and a clarinet starting from the formulaic stuff we knew and taking the chance on something new as we played waiting for the bus to take us to the game each new riff like kindling each measure and beat another degree cold october afternoon classroom children who were born too late to witness birdland living for a moment on a borrowed piece of that stage letting the rhythm serve as our holy relic and letting the growing audience of our peers and our teachers serve as our congregation exhausted and unaware we laid our pieces down and were supprised to hear applause we laughed and enjoyed but sadly never really got to recapture any of the fire that seized us in that moment and i have never known any drug or any lover who ever brought me quite that close to heaven no matter how high they may have gotten me 010125 ... god the moments we live for. 011224 what's it to you? who go blather from