March 2020 was a great month. I went to Chicago, had great gigs, recorded, and saw everyone. I returned to my weekly solo gig in downtown Fort Myers. I was booked to do a private party at the home of a major patron of jazz down here, and I'd finally get a chance to do my thing for him. It was going to be my year.

Then COVID hit.

When everything got canceled I made some decisions. For one, I was going to live until they developed a vaccine for this thing. For another, I was going to use it as an opportunity rather than a setback. Paradoxically, there are aspects of steady work that retards growth. Too much focus on the next gig, for one thing. Now I could, or was forced to, I guess, focus on long term problems, new approaches to technique, harmony, and working toward getting closer to what's really me and what I always thought it's all about.

I got in the habit of rising very early, coming to life, making the coffee, and getting the first hour in as the sun was coming up on the lanai. I still do that now, up with the birds. I could last out there until it starts getting seriously hot, around 10 am. I would hit it again mid afternoon, after cleaning up and a short nap. Some of the things I studied were working towards specific goals, others were just for curiosity. Recently one of my friends was barely able to hide his derision when he learned that I was working out of an Eb Omnibook. "Why? That makes no sense." He's right. But try it and see what happens. It makes no sense until it does. I read better in sharp keys now, with those nasty relative minors, for one thing.

When music theory is an active part of your process, you can go anywhere. I would do these arpeggios over song form. They weren't the obvious arpeggios. Such as a C-7 arpeggio over an A7(alt) chord. This puts me in a situation where I can't hear it but the theory tells me it's right. So I stay with it in all the keys and all the progressions and then when I do it in three of four tunes, again in all keys, damn if I don’t start to hear it. THEN I start the process of making it lyrical, so that it doesn't only "work," but it sounds musical, it expresses meaning, and the civilians dig it. They don't understand it but they feel it because you feel it, and you commit to landing those phrases. And when the going gets tough, resolve to the Blues.

Technique is different. The issue is informed by everything else. How can I just rip the modes and arpeggios? Why is Donna Lee so hard? Am I EVER going to get this picking? I think about it all day long. It comes, but boy, is it slow. Ultimately you must realize that if it's going to happen for you, it's going to be unique to you and you alone. What, you want to put seven years of your life into something that someone else already did who is 30 years further into it than you? That ain't it. You have to look within.

I didn't have a gig for fourteen months. I mean, I've had dry spells before, but this one was the dust bowl. Then, finally a nibble. I knew what was going to happen. I was practicing five or six hours a day but when I got up on stage I was very, very rusty. There's 30 variables that exist on stage that you cannot replicate in the studio. Acoustics. Navigating the changes with multiple people making those choices. Tempos. I couldn't find my co-ordination for 45 minutes. The biggest thing in my recollection was that in practice you think about what you’re doing and what you just did, but in performance you have to think ahead. Not only what is the bass doing, but where is it going to be four beats out. Dynamics are happening, I didn't touch that in 14 months. It was a long gig. But after it was over I was 90% back. A very interesting perspective. Thanks, pandemic. But if I ever find myself under house arrest again I'd rather it be from kiting checks.