Many Americans are convinced that the COVID pandemic is over. Thinking this way would be a mistake. I know because my wife contracted the virus at some point recently and tested positive on Friday of last week. Despite being fully vaccinated, she’s feeling quite unwell.
As a result, I’ve moved into the front bedroom—the one with the television—leaving my wife to recuperate in our master.
I’ve been reading and watching a bit of television late into the evenings recently while my wife rests. Last night, at 11:30 p.m., I got on PBS to watch The Wallace Townsend Quintet, a jazz band, on Sound On Tap, a half-hour program that features emerging musical groups in Texas. I managed to find a copy of the full telecast on the internet and have embedded it here.
The fellows are good, but I want to begin by saying a bit about the venue, Flippers Tavern. I did a quick search and found that said drinking/gaming establishment can be found in Lubbock, Texas, out west, located a part of the state where the land flattens out and the sky gets large and melodramatic. Lubbock is a university town and known as a place where much musical talent resides and music history abounds. In fact, Buddy Holly (among many noteworthy others) was born there and all sorts of bands, of every type and flavor, pass through those parts as they move across the Southwest in search of audiences to entertain and mesmerize.
It just so happens, I lived in Lubbock during my late twenties. I taught at South Plains College, a little community college located there. Back in the day, the city had several really good spots where blues bands played some soulful stuff. I was there during a period of my life when I spent Friday and Saturday evenings out and about. I caroused a bit more than I should have. I certainly sowed some wild oats. I have good memories of those days.
Watching this quintet took me back. It also provided me with a wonderful example of creativity and “flow.” Watch the guys make music. Watch them feel it. Notice how each musician is egoistically occupied with his own instrument but then steps aside so that others can step in. Clearly, what we’re witnessing is something like the quiet ecstasy of creation—nothing less than a jazzy God-like Act.
Thanks for reading.
I’ve got work, on the internet, in a variety of publications. Use the Google search terms “Troy Headrick writer” to find more example of my writing.