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August 23, 2009


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Franklin T. Moorehead

I had a friend who was sober for years and then began drinking again and also began using crack cocaine. In an honest moment he told me that no one can really help a drunk. The drunk has to sink so low that there is no lower to go than death - genuine death. Not the threat of death, but meeting death and knowing you either choose death or life.

I dont know if my friend is still alive. I'll call someday and find out.

Jazz Lunatique

I think it's a Henry Miller line but I heard it as it applies to the late New Orleans poet Everette Maddox:

There is no grip so strong as that of a man's hands when they are on his own throat.

or something like that.

Great stuff on Bill Evans. Poor dude.

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  • Marc Myers writes frequently on music and the arts for the Wall Street Journal. He is author of "Why Jazz Happened" (University of California Press). JazzWax has been named the Jazz Journalists Association's "Blog of the Year."
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