one page written ca. 1988...

Stella by Starlight poured from the horn out onto the room. A few people heard the melody, a dripping tune, damp, then soaking wet. If you loved Stella, you stopped. But most went about talking and drinking and overall carrying on. Oh yes, Jack the Tenor Saxophone Man! He remembered the very cool rendition, and the air leaving her body on that bluest of nights when Milo died. Jack could have been the best player in the world. But he never was. It's likely, and it's no secret, because he drank for the toothache. Stone heard the music, rolling from dream to Nick's here on Commercial Street. This house is alive in the dark where the storefronts sleep in a row like headstones resting for battle. Nick's in Big Town is the place to hear jazz. Milo made a home here in the late forties early fifties. Jack eyed the water glass filled with straight Kentucky bourbon. The pure cure for the toothache. He gulped it and flapped his pudgy hand at a waitress. More! Stone blinked, this guy is beautiful! Milo died on stage at Newport. Other than Jack, Stella, Stone and Milo himself, not many are known to recall the event. It was lost as a milestone on the swinging Duke Ellington orchestra and dancing in the park. Happily, though, for Milo, the Big Town All-Stars appeared three hours earlier. So, when the first waves of Take the A Train smashed on the trees, the Silky Trumpet from the North was already a muted soul. Jack embraced the loss. He had stood beside Milo and was the only person to tell him goodnight.