Alexander

I've done this before, but I like talking about it, so I'll do it again. My CDs are alphabetical by artist, then chronological by first recording date. In the case of multiple artists (Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, for example) I file it by the first artist listed. So Al Cohn and Zoot Sims goes under 'C,' but Zoot Sims and Al Cohn goes under 'S'! Box sets are generally shelved before the artist's other discs, although this is hardly a hard and fast rule. Since many Mosaic sets cover specific periods, I find that I shelve these chronologically along with the artist's other discs. Other box sets (I'm not sure why) I shelve *after* the artist's other discs (this is the case with both The Beatles and James Brown). Basically, I take box sets on a case-by-case basis. I do keep various artist CDs under 'V'. My CDs are organized into four categories: Jazz, Rock/Pop/Country/Blues/Soul/Funk (all shelved together alphabetically by artist), Folk, and Classical. Why do I keep Folk separate from the other discs? I don't know. I've considered creating a separate Blues category, but I feel that if I do that, I'd have to separate out Country, etc. So I keep my four general categories, and don't think about it too much. Tell a lie, I do have a fifth category for holiday music. I generally keep that stuff put away until the holidays, when I take it out and put it in the living room.

I agree with one review I read that said that this album seems short on fun. There's some excellent playing, but it remains my least favorite Osby album simply because it's so damn serious!

I am SO anal about my CDs. I have everything meticulously shelved, alphabetized, etc. As soon as I get a new CD, I shelve it, which means I have to shift everything around. I just got a digital camera. Maybe I'll post some pictures.

Up, for those who may want to participate, but haven't signed up yet. Thanks to all of you who have signed up thus far. I think I've put together a pretty fun disc, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts! Keep 'em coming!

Once the card has been used, no it doesn't have the value printed on it. If you use $15 of a $20 gift card, it doesn't magically turn into a $5 gift card.

My maternal grandmother was like that, and on a similar scale. Her house was FULL to the top with worthless crap that she ordered off of late-night tv ads (You know, Franklin Mint stuff). She was also into crafts, so her house was full of raw materials and little dioramas she made. She had several dogs, and their ashes were kept in shoe boxes in her over-stuffed basement. My great-grandmother used to live upstairs from my grandmother until she (my great-grandmother) died (in 1971, I believe). When my grandmother moved to a nursing home (in 1995), I went up into my great-grandmother's old apartment. Not only had my grandmother not removed any of her mother's furniture or clothing, but SHE DIDN'T EVEN CLEAN OUT THE FRIDGE. That's right. When we went up there, we opened the fridge to find TWENTY-FOUR YEAR OLD FOOD rotting away. Needless to say, the whole fridge had to be thrown out. No way to save that thing. My mother rented a dumpster, and just threw everything away. A pipe had burst in the basement, and there were years and YEARS worth of degraded and rotted stuff on the floor creating something not unlike a swamp. My mom's boyfriend and my younger brother (I begged off because - well - I'm not STUPID) had to shovel this glop out of the basement. I start gagging just thinking about it. My mother, as much as it would kill her to admit this, has inherited much of this same madness. She too is a packrat, and although her house is neat and orderly, it's still filled with a lot of useless chotchkes. I have a bit of it too, of course. Nearly every room of my house is full of CDs and books, but at least there's a method to my madness. I don't think my grandmother enjoyed the things she bought, at least not the way I enjoy music or literature. Maybe she did, frankly I stopped talking to her after I turned 16 and my parents split up. At the time of her death, I hadn't seen her in years. My wife is kind of freaked out that she went to my grandmother's funeral, but has never even seen a PICTURE of this woman, much less met her. There's another aspect to my grandmother's story. My mother has an older sister who suffered a debilitating stroke when she was just 17 years old. She's still alive (in the same home my grandmother died in), but is currently dying of cancer. For years, she lived in my grandmother's house, receiving in-home care. Nearly everyone in my family is convinced that had my aunt been put in proper care from the start, she wouldn't be in the shape she's in today (she's been a vegetable for as long as I've known her). Visits my grandmother's house as a child were NIGHTMARES. Imagine it: My grandmother's house, full of rotting junk; she smoked like a demon, which irritated my eyes; my aunt would be propped up in a living room chair moaning and drooling (and she kicked if you sat too close to her); my grandmother always had a vicious dog which had to be locked up in another room, lest in bite me or my brother (it sometimes got out, and chased us around, snarling). You can see why I stopped going there when I got old enough...

I'd start with the original album (last disc, I think). Listen to that several times and get to know it well, then the rest of the set will be more revealing.

Not at all. He's dead! He's somehow responsible for the behavior of his suriving relatives?

Okay...I'm back from my FABULOUS Disney World vacation, and I'm ready to roll! All those interested in receiving a disc for Blindfold Test #9 please PM me and let's get this thing started, shall we?

I returns! I have been out of town for the last several days, but I am back and ready to fulfill my BFT duties, if you haven't given my spot away to somebody else

Burroughs' "Junky" is a great book, and it shows the harrowing nature of addiction from the inside out, but with an almost clinical detachment. Highly recommended.

In the wake of his disappearence, I'd been rereading some of his monologues recently. I had just finished (literally, minutes before logging on) "It's a Slippery Slope," which talks about the end of his first marriage, the birth of his first child, and his turning 52 (the age at which is mother committed suicide), when I saw the news. He spent his life making art out of despair, only to have his despair finally get the best of him. Having struggled with depression and suicidal impulses myself over the years, I have great sympathy for his struggle... Rest In Peace, Spalding...

Wait, wait! It gets even better! I got an extremely P.O.ed e-mail from Jazz Improv this morning, reading in part: "A number of Jazz Improv Magazine's supporters - readers and writers - forwarded the diatribe that you publicly posted about your dissatisfaction with Jazz Improv. I have no record of your contacting me to inquire about your concerns including why we did not run a number of the reviews that you wrote. Since you apparently did not want to discover from the source what the reasoning or truth may be, was your public posting of your "behind-the-back" criticism and dissatisfaction to "punish" or embarrass Jazz Improv Magazine?" Such was my response: "Well, it's your magazine, and you have the right to run anything you please. I'm not so concerned about the reasons why you didn't run most of the reviews I wrote (maybe you didn't like them. It's not really important). What I objected to, and what prompted me to fire off an angry post in a public forum, was having one of my reviews completely rewritten and yet published under my name as though I had penned it. As to why you did this, again it really doesn't matter. If you don't like what I write, it's your right not to run it, but if you feel the need to change my words, at least have the common decency not to put my name on it. Do what you like, but don't expect me to be quiet about it." I don't know which part of this I find more insulting: The fact that they substantially altered my work, or the fact that they expected me to keep my mouth shut and not make my dissatisfaction public. As I said, I'm not planning on writing for them in the future...Not that they'd want me now! I feel like Stanley Crouch!

The Hal Jordan Green Lanter (seen here with the original Alan Scott GL from the 40s) has always been my favorite.

There were some questions specific to the Bulldogs (like the color of their uniforms, the name of the stadium in which they play, etc,) that I didn't know, and one or two questions about basketball in general (like the number of refs at a game), but on the whole it was an amazingly STUPID test. Certainly anyone who PLAYS basketball and PLAYS on the Bulldogs should be able to answer every one of these questions without even thinking about it. There are real concerns about academic integrity and student athletes, and a test like this underlines the problem: Too many universities are willing to give a free pass to anyone who can play with a ball or a puck and do it well. I know it's never going to happen, but just once I'd like to see a college turn DOWN a gifted athlete because he's a knucklehead.

Ratatouille!

"Eventually I came to realize that I was more at ease with other mice..."

This is the guy, right here. This is the guy who got me started in jazz. It's all his fault! Take a bow, Henry...

I just went to the site, listened to the samples and now...damn, if I didn't just order a copy from CD Universe! You guys are gonna be the death of me... That's some funky shit, Jim... Damn!

I was just thinking about this the other day. My parents aren't jazz fans (although my dad likes more jazz than my mom), but I do credit them with my lifelong interest in both books and music. My parents read to me a lot (as I do with my daughter), and my parents always had music on in the house. This was in the seventies, so most of my parents listening was singer/songwriter stuff (Carol King, James Taylor, Billy Joel, some Dylan, Cat Stevens, Paul Simon). They were also HUGE Beatles fans, which definitely rubbed off on me. In addition to this, nearly everybody in my family (except my mom and me, that is) plays an instrument. My father plays guitar and piano (and sings. He was in a high school rock band called the Mon-Keys), my grandfather was a professional violinist (played jazz, classical, and various folk musics), my grandmother was a singer and played piano, two of my aunts sang (one is a professional jazz vocalist who has written lyrics to Joe Henderson tunes like "Serenity" and "Black Narcissus"), one of my uncles is a tenor saxophonist, my brother plays violin (bluegrass)...you get the general idea. Music was VERY important in my household, moreso than almost anything else (when my father married outside the faith, my grandfather was very upset. When my aunt Sharon married outside the faith, it was cool so long as the guy was a musician). Jazz, classical, rock, folk, blues, even polkas and klezmer were all heard in my house (we lived upstairs from my grandparents). This is what turned me into the musical fiend I am today... As to what got me into jazz, it was my friend Henry who turned me onto jazz by exposing me to Miles Davis and John Coltrane. My friend Adam suggested people like Bill Evans and Chick Corea (he's a pianist), and my friend Brian turned me on to more contemporary artists like Greg Osby and Joe Lovano. All of this happened during the course of a decade, and I continue to get ideas from friends, from this board, and from my own reading. It's interesting to think that we are all the products of our environment.

I think it's fairly obvious that some wild wag of a programmer was just having a little fun at Gibson and the other faithful's expense. That's what I'd do anyway...