sunday pm

I'm having a lazy Sunday at home here in warm, sunny Seattle, just kicking back and listening to Ken Wiley's "Art of Jazz" on my mom's old fm box.

I was out walking earlier, down to the produce store at 105th, then home. I've been having breathing problems, but they seem to be better now. Paused for breath a couple times on the uphill grade home with a heavy bag of fruit, but I'm not gasping for air like I was.

Time for a little recovery from last night's blow-out and festivities as my nephew got married to his long-time girlfriend, who's a dead ringer for Ruby Keeler.

Ken is on a Charlie Parker jag this afternoon, and as he often does he brought in a bunch of his 78 rpm discs, so he can play '40's stuff from Parker not available elsewhere. He bought quite a few of these sides in record stores when they first came out.

Now he's switched gears after 50 minutes of Parker and plays a tune from one of the Eddie Condon Chicago bands. Then he plays the same record a second time, so listeners can focus on one musical exchange he especially wants us to note.

Just another Sunday afternoon at Professor Wiley's school of jazz.