I Wake The Dead. I Bring Jackie

Write: Write Letters. Keep Journals. Besides Your Children, There Is No Surer Way Of Achieving Immortality.

It Follows The Seasons, Beginning Each Year With The Fond Expectancy Of Springtime And Ending With The Hard Facts Of Autumn.

I Read Cover To Cover Every Jazz Publication That I Could And In The New York Times, Every Single Day Reading Their Jazz Reviews Even Though I Didn't Put Them In The Films. I Wanted To Know What Is Going On.

I Have Come To The Realization That History Is Not A Fixed Thing, A Collection Of Precise Dates, Facts And Events (even Cogent Commencement Quotes) That Add Up To A Quantifiable, Certain, Confidently Known, Truth. It Is A Mysterious And Malleable Thing.

Like A Layer On A Pearl, You Can't Specifically Identify The Irritant, The Moment Of The Irritant, But At The End Of The Day, You Know You Have A Pearl.