Charles isn't home . . .

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Charles has been in Raleigh since Saturday afternoon. He was a fill-in organist at an Episcopal Church, St. Marks, with a huge gay membership. Normally he'd have come straight home but he's been asked to play piano for a pop recital on Friday.

Charles doesn't know pop (this is the Gershwin & Porter kind of pop). But the lady who asked him to play (for $150, we need the cash) went off to the beach. It wasn't until today that she and Charles finally talked and he's been waiting in Raleigh trying to get together with the woman.

He really wanted a couple of rehearsals but tonight is her wedding anniversary. They'll finally get to work together tomorrow. She hasn't performed since high school and he's frantic about his performance (but he gets worried even before he plays a Bach fugue he's known since he was a little kid).

I'm hoping this gig will help him find more work than being a substitute organist. Aside from our cash starvation he needs to perform more. Playing the organ is something he can do with expertness and pride.

While he's been away the TV has been blessedly silent. And I've been listening to lot of neglected music. But that is a different, very worrisome story.

Pity Diana Krall's blond hair makes her so famous when there's a traditional jazz singer as charming and swinging as John Pizzarelli.

[Listening to: John - Honey Pie - Pizzarelli - (4:29)]


ahh, fill-in organist at a majorly queer church—the jokes are impending, but too common to give vent to.

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