Michael Leonhart

Frank Jerke

One day, reading a story to my son Nate, who was 2 at the time, I asked if he'd thought about what he wanted to be when he grew up. He gave me a studied look, paused, and replied: “I think a doctor.” I beamed, and the studied look remained as he continued, “or maybe a turtle.” Startled, and at the same time welling with laughter, I wondered: when exactly did we lose this ability to wander? To simply be? 

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Dizzy Gillespie, “Long Long Summer”

I listened to hours and hours of Dizzy Gillespie over the weekend — not an unprecedented act, though it carried a little more purpose than usual. That’s because Gillespie, the immortal trumpeter, composer-bandleader and bebop progenitor, had his centenary on Saturday.