You don’t need your mind blown every minute, do you? Sit in the sun in the kitchen. There’s a round table by the tall windows, and the snow shines like the wing of an airliner when you look out the window. You’re flying high over the back yard. There’s a cap of snow on the birdhouse. The birds have gone to Miami for the winter, missing all the fun of not being cold for a few minutes.
Put on a pot of coffee and listen to Paul Chambers swing a bit. The occasional thunderstorm on the snare. Hank Mobley won’t make you wonder what’s going on, so you can wonder what’s going on in your house, instead. We gave the little one a yo-yo for Christmas. He loves it above all things. A yo-yo. He makes it go up and down, and that’s it. It’s sublime. It goes down the string. It comes up the string as if by magic if you snap your wrist just right.
Hank Mobley makes the morning come up the string.