What Is Life But Playing With Time?

A Gut-string Classical Spanish Guitar, A Sweet, Lovely Little Lady. The Smell Of It. Even Now, To Open A Guitar Case, When It's An Old Wooden Guitar, I Could Crawl In And Close The Lid.

Everybody Thinks You Reach A Certain Age And You're A Grownup, But It's Not True. Nobody Grows Up Until The Day They Croak.

You Don't Find A Style. A Style Finds You

I've Never Had My Hair Cut By Anybody, I Do It All Myself.

There's Something Beautifully Friendly And Elevating About A Bunch Of Guys Playing Music Together. This Wonderful Little World That Is Unassailable. It's Really Teamwork, One Guy Supporting The Others, And It's All For One Purpose, And There's No Flies In The Ointment, For A While. And Nobody Conducting, It's All Up To You. It's Really Jazz__that's The Big Secret. Rock And Roll Ain't Nothing But Jazz With A Hard Backbeat.