Jammin’
I like it, but I’ve never been a huge fan of reggae music. Even so, that some of my most fun travel memories from all over the world have had Bob Marley for a soundtrack has not escaped my attention. Last weekend I found myself in Jamaica with the bachelor party gang. By the way, we’re all married now – so next year we need a new excuse to go somewhere.
I met a fantastic trumpet player named Frank on the beach in Negril. He just goes up and down the beach all day with his horn, hustling tips from tourists and sitting in whereever there is music. His horn was barely held together — some of the spit valves were sealed shut, so he had to repeatedly remove a valve to empty out the condensation. The braces were cracked, so he had the thing taped together in places. The finish was corroded a bit from hanging out at the beach all day, but no matter though. Somehow he managed to keep the sand out of the thing and free of dents, probably because he almost always has it in his hands. It’s like an extension of him. When he played it, his tone was rich and confident and clear, and the horn sounded amazing.
Frank called me up to sit in with the band on Sunday night at Alfred’s Ocean Palace, and we played some Bob Marley. Yeah, mon. The band was great, I had a blast, and it must have been a spectacle for the gang to see yours truly making some music with guys that had dreads to the floor. I have had that “reggae shuffle” stuck in my head now for four days. Kinda enjoying it actually.