Guest Column: Dancing in Your Head
Greetings to all. I’m Lenni Bukowski, whose comments under the moniker of Lennib you may have read, although recent ones may have been anathema as they dealt with dissolution rather than accumulation. I have also been emailing Al on the matter of disposing due to his post of May 3rd, 2015, titled ‘See You in Brooklyn? Not Anymore.’ He suggested “Why don’t you write a post or two on your experiences…how to find a place in our lives for the passion we get by collecting, listening and playing jazz.”
I believe I have always been a collector of some sort, of something. Baseball cards, books, stamps, coins, toy soldiers. And looking back, I outgrew all of them over time. Being Chicago born, I had always been riding the subway or buses when I was old enough to and on one such journey of exploration in 1963 or ‘64, I walked into the Jazz Record Mart, 7 West Grand, and immediately heard a sound that would stay with me always. I asked the clerk, dig now, a hipster for real, red haired, goatee’d, all in black, beret’d, what was playing over the speakers. The reply came, with hipster hauteur, “That’s Bird, man.” Seeing a look of befuddlement, he took pity on a youngster and said that’s Charlie Parker.
And off I went. Read more









