Chick asked me to sit in a chair a couple feet away from his piano. He stared at me with the a look that seemed to say "whatever you've got, I'll work with it." If I had to imagine how I looked back at him in that moment it would've been the simulacrum of wanderlust and kummerspeck (German for grief bacon). It felt like I was being channeled by a ghost and the chords matched my facade like icing on a cake.
Chick played the piano, all I could do was sit there and listen.
Chick played the piano, all I could do was sit there and listen.