Elevator

Papa

Yeah bud

Who’s Miles Davis

Oh, crap.

I have clearly failed my parental music curation duties.

(So far)

I’m tempted to long wind monologue around his significance, but catch myself.

say less

show, don’t tell

I find the greatest jazz album of all time, flip on the speaker, and let music explain itself.

Upright bass enters the chat, low tones, all business.

Sax follows, grants a sense of tranquil,

and the snare undergirds with gentlest precision.

All to set the stage

for the truest, purest breaths

Who’s Miles Davis

His face registers mild shock, then pure joy as our legend ascends, and he follows the notes, Miles into the sky,

perfection,

masquerading as music.

I’m no jazz expert

but I know what I like.

And as we descend, then climb, then descend again

on this Ascenseur Pour L’echafaud

his eyes tell me,

no , -wait –

show me

everything I need to know

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