Edgar

“Are you a musician, I couldn’t help but over hear your conversation.”  He turned to me with a big grin.

“Yes!  How could you tell?”

“You were discussing Stravinsky.”

“Ahhhh….yes, are you?”

“No, I was blessed with a passion for music, but no talent…a cruel fate handed to me by the creative gods.  What instrument do you play.”

“I’m a jazz drummer…but I love Midori, have you seen her?”

“Yes, last season at the CSO.  You know…many soloists are technically perfect, but they have nothing to say…Midori has something to say.”

Edgar began to well up big teddy bear tears.  His son turned to me, “Whoa…there’s only a few things that make my dad cry, Midori is one of them.”  Egar’s tears began to fall,

“You understand, yes…she reaches into the soul…something to say. Ugh…I can’t believe I’m crying!”  His 70 years or so began to melt.

“I can…you are a musician…you’re closer to the heart of things.”  He nodded his head, “I play this Sunday down on Ludlow, Sunday brunch, you should come.”

“It would be an honor, Edgar..”  I said with a smile.  Old souls like us, just connect, even with 40 years in between.

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