Rosh Hashanah Of Sorts

Today is the today to reflect, to repent, to be thankful and to, ultimately start over and afresh. I woke up this morning wondering just where I am and where I want to be, even by lunchtime. While this last year has truly been a struggle, personally and professionally, I am reminded daily by Thoreau of who I do not want to become. The mass of men, Henry D. wrote, lead lives of quiet desperation. I yearn to never be one of them, though often find myself more of a Willy Loman than that of Walden's residents. See, my odometer flipped today, and as it read similar numbers, I think to where I am, who I am and where I want to see myself, even before I hop on an airplane.

My wife and child are beautiful; my next on-the-way is beginning to show on Mom. I am blessed. While my family is scattered, I hold them close and they me. I truly have nothing to worry me.

Today has been one of rest. I showed the deleted "Stairway To Heaven" scene from Almost Famous today as well as played half of Deep Purple's "Machine Head". I'm listening to Jackie McLean's "Desination Now" from 1963 and it's some beautiful saxophone playing. I was terribly disappointed to hear of his passing in April. I also picked up Christian McBride's "Live at Tonic", a three-disc live album with several lineups and friendly guests. Sort of a "Deep End" for jazz/funk/fusion. It will need to grow on me as the bassist pushes music in interesting new directions.

I was right about Branford; the new one's hot.

I share a birthday with Olivia Newton-John and George Gershwin. You choose which one you'll most want to align yourself with. I listened to Rhapsody in Blue tonight.

Off to watch Annie Hall and fall in love with quirky Diane Keaton for the zillionth time.