Jersey, my Jersey – This Game Is Over, Salvucci Sez

His name was Tommy Sims. He played trumpet. You never heard of him.

Ok, this one is strictly for jazz nuts–and a subset of them, known as trumpet players and aficionados. Not every one who likes jazz necessarily digs trumpet players. And those who do like jazz don’t necessarily agree on what constitutes a good trumpet player. Believe me, the sectarian difference would make an Anabaptist tremble withContinue reading “His name was Tommy Sims. He played trumpet. You never heard of him.”

Why I am Not a Jazz Critic

No, this is not a play on Bertrand Russell’s “Why I am Not a Christian.” For obvious reasons, I wouldn’t dare. And for at least one less obvious reason. Russell argues that a Christian, among other things, had to believe in God. He did not. And that was that. What do you have to believeContinue reading “Why I am Not a Jazz Critic”

Downa Shore

You knew this was coming. No Philly city-kid life in the 1950s and 1960s could possibly be complete without it. You were inevitably part of the great chain of land-breathing creatures whose ancestors emerged from the cheap seats on Big Ships. And as soon as they could possibly afford to, they went back to theContinue reading “Downa Shore”