BACK HOME AT THE AIRPORT

So, back to New York. As usual, I tend to come off long trips away by hitting the ground in New York standing still. There’s something about 2 and half months away that makes you lose your momentum. Still, it was nice to be back with gigs at smalls and around, playing with a couple of fine bassists: Johannes Weidenmuller and Joseph Lepore. And before I left for Japan I went on a cleaning spree so things in the apartment were more orderly than usual although I have no idea where anything is. I’ve been calling Japan to locate things like laundry bags and coffee filters, but I’m starting to get it together.

New York is a place of possibilities. I went by Smoke Saturday to drop off CDs for the owners, Paul and Frank, and to listen to an unusual gig, Brad Mehldau was playing with Joe Farnsworth and Peter Washington. It was interesting to hear him in this more straight-ahead context.

And now I’m back in an airport, heading back to Cleveland to visit family for a few days. These days, the airport feels like home--it was strangely reassuring to be heading back to one at 7 am.  The crowds at Laguardia and the broken terminals at AIrtran took care of that misapprehension. Who knew so many people wanted to go to Akron? (Akron is the answer to the question: if you come from Cleveland, what city do you use as the butt of YOUR jokes?) Anyway, onward and upward. (Then downward and outward.)