Johnna and her husband just bought a house. In this city of single-stories, they bought one someone had added onto going upwards and that second story is designed for entertaining.
And entertain they did tonight, with musician friends of theirs performing in the space up there that, looking out the windows at the trees, made me realize how very much of my life in California is spent at ground level; it’s just one of the idiosyncracies of the place.
Wow. You get a new appreciation for seeing a flock of finches zooming by and poplar leaves waving at eye level. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed having height in my life.
The first fellow was a Stanford professor whose specialty is computer music. The second, a pianist, the third, a trumpeter–New Age, jazz, traditional, they were having fun, playing by turns and then the pianist and trumpeter a few duets together.
It turns out the professor had studied under someone whose research my husband’s then- work group had sponsored in Boston. A mutual friend, definitely. Small world.
But then the best part was at the end: they all decided to jam. The professor said, “I’ll start with something, like this…” and riffed. The pianist took it on, the young guy joined in with the brass, and listening, you would never know they hadn’t been practicing that piece for years. It all just naturally fell into place, till the thought struck me–how would they ever know when it’s over?
And then immediately, but why would anyone ever want it to be?