My Friendship with Jazz

 “I don’t like any jazz,” my ex-wife once said. Both a statement of shallow misunderstanding and commentary on all my friendships. I’ve had many, from short sandbox relationships in kindergarten to life-long ones. Jazz is one of the life-long ones.

We met when I was young; brief encounters. Once, in a childhood cartoon I heard a character singing “Cement mixer; putty-putty.” It stuck. And Disney’s Jungle-Book soundtrack; 'I Wanna Be Like You'; boogie and scat! Jazz was winking at me.

Friendship is a funny thing. It can start with a laugh—or a fight. It can go underground for a season only to rise up again after summer. In sixth grade my closest friend and I brawled at recess all fists and fury. We didn’t talk for two months. I wanted companionship for family vacation though. There we were back again. That’s how male friendships seem to work.

That first French kiss wasn’t all that great. Jazz feels like my friendships with women. Mysterious and shallow at first.  A landscape I didn’t know how to navigate Then startling moments when something deeper was glimpsed.

My music collection in school was comprised of rock. On the fringes though there were albums with lots of brass; r&b, Earth, Wind and Fire, Chick Corea and an abundance of Boz Scaggs. Oh, jazz--beyond music, beyond emotion! Can I get lost inside of you?

Life kept drawing us closer. Intro to Jazz was arguably one of the best classes I took in college. There were phone calls and trysts. Still jazz remained on the periphery. But music has all kinds of friends. 

“If the Mississippi River has a musical signature, it’s the blues.” There’s also an app, an historical blues route and historical markers set in place in 2006. When my friend and I set out to do a quick Blues road trip there was no app. It was jazz that found us enjoying a traditional New Orleans band on an alleyway corner; and jazz that took us from Clarksdale to Chicago. There was a fight over jazz too! Both of us wanted to experience a different venue; I wanted a George Winston concert vs. an historic Blues concert. We separated, did our own thing; and came back together. We’re still the best of friends to this day. And the blues and I? We are still getting acquainted.

Photo by Konstantin Aal on Unsplash