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23 years ago today, I played my first flugelhorn-only concert (no trumpet), a recital at New England Conservatory's Jordan Hall with the True Colors Big Band. The ensemble: Ken Schaphorst, conductor; Rob Scheps, soprano and alto sax; Kenny Brooks, soprano and tenor sax; Jay Brandford, clarinet and baritone sax; Andy Gravish, trumpet; Scott Cowan, trumpet; Dmitri Matheny, flugelhorn; Curtis Hasselbring, trombone; Josh Roseman, trombone; John Medeski, piano; Wesley Wirth, bass; Jim Harp, drums; Dov Schiller, percussion. Not a bad line-up.



The Zealot can explain neither the intensity of his enthusiasm nor the extreme degree of his uncritical devotion. Is he merely an inspired mortal, or is he possessed of a supernatural afflatus? What is the source of his fanatical belief/behavior?


"It may sound far away, but it's closer than you think!
One thing is for sure though. Trouble is trouble,
no matter where you are."
—Felix the Cat

"I think it's a fine thing that a man on the doorstep of death
can still look at a woman like me with what I call
deserved appreciation."
—Maggie the Cat

"We shall overcome!"
—Fritz the Cat