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~  I’m  ready  for  my  close  up  now

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 ~  Big  mouth  !

 

 

 

 

 

~

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~  Dustmop ! !

 

 

 

 

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~  Rock  on  !

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~

 

 

 

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~  Sink  or  Swim

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~  Counter  top  kittens

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~

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Reading Righting Rhythm

The pad on Lenox was jumping. The musicians ranged from white to tan to brown to black. No one in that room was thinking about anything but music. I sometimes think all racial prejudice in the world would evaporate if everyone were taught to play an instrument and then allowed to join a gigantic international band. I’ve never yet met a musician, black or white, who has let color become any sort of a barrier. And this holds for musicians who come from neighborhoods where racial prejudice is taught from the cradle by well meaning parents preparing their kids for the hard knocks of life. It doesn’t work on musicians. There’s no room for hatred when three men or six men or a dozen men or two dozen men are blowing their separate sheets and making a conglomerate sound. The sound is the thing and music has its own color, blue or red or pale yellow or misty pink. ~ Ed McBain ~ Né Salvatore Lombino

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