New Year’s Eve was a historic day in Louis Armstrong’s life and it was 101 years ago tonight that Louis got arrested for shooting off his stepfather’s pistol (loaded with blanks) during the evening’s celebration. Sent to the Colored Waif’s Home, Little Louis learned the cornet and… the rest is history!
Here is how the New Orleans Times-Picayune reported the arrest of the “old offender” that evening. H/T to the Louis Armstrong House Museum.
Contents @ CUP — we’re still bang on schedule after 10 years. I think that’s rather impressive.
Reviewed in NDPR
“Ain that fine. Whoa! I never go to school more than two year in my life. My momma out washing other people clothin, ain nobody talking about school. I spen all my time rollin tire aroun the street. I’m rollin, momma washing, nobody learning nothin. Shit! Who looking for a tire roller to give them a job? I end up gainfully employ working with a bird, got a boss probly selling Spanish fly to orphan. Ooo-wee” (p. 114).
This from Rolling Stone.
Dave Chalmers’ recent RIP lecture.
H/T to the one and only Ricky Riccardi. Scroll down to hear the audio. Also here is a NPR programme with Ricky and the very philosophical Matt Glaser.
Christmas at home in Corona (c. 1940s)
This posted on an interesting site.
A man who had his jazz cafe swept away by tsunami in Otsuchi, Iwate Prefecture, sent a thank-you card to the company for creating the CD, saying, “We could finally feel like listening to jazz again.”
The debut of my favorite CoD character.
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Mattie’s was a combination bar and grocery, the grocery aspect limited to a sparse selection of goods, soft drinks, bread, and canned foods for the most part. Beside the bar there was an ice chest that cooled a few pounds of pickled meat and sausage. And there was no Mattie; Mr. Watson, the quiet, tan, café au lait owner, had sole authority over the restricted merchandise.
“The problem come from not havin no vocation skill,” Jones was saying to Mr. Watson. Jones was perched on a wooden stool, his legs bent under him like ice tongs ready to pick up the stool and boldly carry it away before Mr. Watson’s old eyes. “If I had some trainin I wouldn be mopping no old whore flo.” (p. 113).
manwithoutqualities 