the biggest hurdle

The Mark McKenzie Quartet.... 

I went to hear them the other night, by myself.  Without Colleen. 

Had to. 

Yep, very hard.  Very, very hard.

Here's Mark.  I wish he was our neighbor.  Oh, what it must be like to open your windows and hear sax riffs on weekend afternoons!  Heaven.

This is Jon.

I have to credit Spoke; he's helped train my ear to hear that driving force of the drums.  I get it.  I love how Jon revs it up sometimes, too.  But sorry Jon; I'm not sure I'd be quite as enthusiastic to have you next door.  No offense. 

And look at Raylan here, playing what is my second favorite instrument, following a sax.  There is nothing like a deep, mysterious, sexy bass hiding in the background of any song.

There was a moment I wish I could have captured of Raylan, leaning on his bass, waiting; waiting patiently as musicians do, between sets.  I know from Colleen's recollections of bands...  It was classic and so film worthy yet I was the only one to see it.  An advantage to going alone.

And here's the talented Lakewood George, as I think of him.  Piano man.  Guitar man.  What an evening one could have around his piano; some vino, some cheese,  baguettes, and a very long list of requests.  

So, there's the quartet.  Four big-hearted guys who always went out of their way to stop by and talk a little jazz with Mom.  They've no idea how much the gestures meant to her.

I haven't been able to listen to much jazz since my parents died.  It's such happy music...

The group is helping me get there, even though they don't really play a lot of standards.  Well, not by my standards...

Still, I could listen to their jazzy renditions of songs like Bye Bye Blackbird, all night long. 

Every night.

Mark McKenzie Quartet
at D'Vine Wine, Firewheel

Come!

I'll see you there...