Last night I went to the coffeehouse at which I’ve been playing (after a fashion) music for the last few years. This is not a grandiose thing. It’s a church basement. Two bucks at the door, open mic, lots of folks bring a tray. But joy is where you find it.
The ringleader of this musical congeries, a gentleman named Rich, who plays marvelous guitar, sent an email a week ago to a horn player named Russ and me with the chords to that exegesis of 20th Century smooth rock, the Atlanta Rhythm Section’s Spooky. Later he sent us a rough chart for the arrangement and I spent a week working on my book and occasionally practicing the tune.…