The morning was boasting and I stretched. The new pills make it hardfor me to wake up. My feet reach the front co-driver’s seat and the steering wheel. My steering wheel. I don’t like to sleep in the car. Who knows what Hampton Hawes the young Charlie Haden had in mind when he went off to Los Angeles… where Hawes died, after heroin, prison and President Kennedy’s pardon.
I have never been to Los Angeles, nor did I look for new homes because of my talent or instruments, unless we consider some body parts as instruments. Šodan gave me my hat several years ago in Havana. I keep it as something that my life depends on. We are all slaves of some amulets that we have, but only some of us dare to admit it.
My most favourite records of Haden are those where he was more dedicated to the noir cinematography sound (if I can call it like this) with the establishment of the West quarter, maybe that is why I developed a tick: I fix my hat to find out more about Hampton as he plays for me. I took this job listening to “In the Angel City” album, I want to have it noted. Although I did not dwell on it too long.
I saw a sign in everything, and Hawes’s voice in my head would not go away. “Play as you should and that’s how it would sound. Try to mess it up and the piano will pay back to you. The piano does not lie. Look at the piano players as they boast with sparkles in their eyes and their lovely fingernails that shine on the piano keyboard — listen carefully because everything that exists is fire and ice, there are no bigger depths or meanings that the pieces of wood as it falls down the waterfall dancing.”
I have waited for so long that I forgot what I was doing. Wait with me, if you are not in some fuss right now. It is mostly like this, I comfortably sit down under my hat’s shade and I wait. When you have the right thought, things start to unwind. A careful observer could think that I wait for a solution of who known what kind of a mystery as I wonder if this shirt is too striking and if it would be against my