I lost a dear friend recently. A friend of nearly 30 years. He was by trade and by nature a jazz musician. So I thought I would improv some memories of Michael Allan Slaughter.

As a professional jazz musician, Michael was of course licensed to invoke the word cat, as in cool cat. Most who are thus privileged do not use the term anymore, I believe. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think it has become … mossy. I think I would inwardly cringe if I heard it in conversation. But Michael employed the word frequently, easily. And it never sounded one bit mossy to me coming from him. I never understood that. Continue reading “Improv memories on the passing of a friend” →