Smooth Jazz In the Morning

I got one of those tiny FM radios. My long time best friend Karen procured a bunch from her brother's Carnegie Mellon graduation. I admit, I empathize with anyone who has to live with me. It's no big secret - I know, they know I'm vicious when I wake up in the morning. Perhaps the aftermath of the four years I had to commute to high school. To put things into perspective, point A was southern Brooklyn and point B was northern Bronx. The ride takes 2 subway transfers during rush hour and about 2 hours to get from A to B. For your personal safety, do not mess with me in the mornings. Unless you have to, in which case you need to bring coffee.

So luckily for my family I always left the house when everyone was still asleep like logs in a fireplace in the middle of winter. I often left feeling bitter about that. I can't justify that since after all, I was the crazy, freedom craving one.

The little gadget that Karen gave me unlocked a more pleasant morning side. I had given up mainstream radio; I got sick of hearing the same hits played regularly at every other hour and Howard Stern pissed me off.

Mmm I started having smooth jazz before sunrise. I played classical guitar. I loved the nylon. For me, there’s no mistaking the sound of nylon strings. Ear recognition is a given. But allow me to explain in style - these strings, like sweet roses, once plucked, falls upon the heart. Who fell upon my heart but this Peter White. I picked him out quickly. Oh, blasted heart! This man and his classical guitar - I love it. He can smooth play me jazz anytime.