10 Stories of Music. 4) Chet Baker. These Foolish Things - Chet Baker Sextet
There are things we all dream of. For example: one goes to get gas and discovers that the guy cleaning his windshield is the greatest white trumpeter in the history of jazz, who has mysteriously vanished for quite some time.
It’s certainly not easy to recognize him: the “James Dean of Jazz” has aged prematurely, his once beautiful face now etched with wrinkles, and a sickly thinness that shows all the signs of a life lived without rules, and, more importantly, he no longer has his front teeth. It doesn’t matter whether he had them removed due to illness, lost them in a fight, or had them pulled out by a dealer to whom he owed money (many aspects of his life are unclear). The fact is, he could no longer play.
The guy who recognizes him at the gas station (who was this guy? Even here, the versions differ) doesn’t leave him there; he visits him again and helps him get back on his feet.
How? What does he actually do? I only know that, some time later, Chet goes to Dizzy Gillespie and asks him for money for dentures. “With dentures, maybe I can start playing again,” he tells him.
Now, it’s not like Dizzy would easily part with money, nor did he have that much to spare; besides—let’s face it—giving money to Chet was like throwing it down the toilet. And then there was that Chet, who had outperformed him (more than two hundred votes difference) in the poll of the best trumpeters by “Down Beat” magazine in ’54. Yet, this time, Dizzy gives him the money.
And Chet is reborn; it won’t be easy: one doesn’t play the trumpet with a set of ceramic teeth. But Chet starts playing again.
How I love second chances! Falling and starting over: it’s the destiny of heroes….
Well, Chet doesn’t take long to fall back into his old life. He goes in and out of jail (even in Italy, Chet loved Italy), continues to need money and runs from debtors, and starts using again like a damn.
Then, at not even 59 years old, he falls from a hotel window in Amsterdam.
Accident, suicide, someone to whom he owed money? Who knows! Many things in his life remain unclear.
But how much I would have loved to have passed by that gas station….
There are things we all dream of. For example: one goes to get gas and discovers that the guy cleaning his windshield is the greatest white trumpeter in the history of jazz, who has mysteriously vanished for quite some time.
It’s certainly not easy to recognize him: the “James Dean of Jazz” has aged prematurely, his once beautiful face now etched with wrinkles, and a sickly thinness that shows all the signs of a life lived without rules, and, more importantly, he no longer has his front teeth. It doesn’t matter whether he had them removed due to illness, lost them in a fight, or had them pulled out by a dealer to whom he owed money (many aspects of his life are unclear). The fact is, he could no longer play.
The guy who recognizes him at the gas station (who was this guy? Even here, the versions differ) doesn’t leave him there; he visits him again and helps him get back on his feet.
How? What does he actually do? I only know that, some time later, Chet goes to Dizzy Gillespie and asks him for money for dentures. “With dentures, maybe I can start playing again,” he tells him.
Now, it’s not like Dizzy would easily part with money, nor did he have that much to spare; besides—let’s face it—giving money to Chet was like throwing it down the toilet. And then there was that Chet, who had outperformed him (more than two hundred votes difference) in the poll of the best trumpeters by “Down Beat” magazine in ’54. Yet, this time, Dizzy gives him the money.
And Chet is reborn; it won’t be easy: one doesn’t play the trumpet with a set of ceramic teeth. But Chet starts playing again.
How I love second chances! Falling and starting over: it’s the destiny of heroes….
Well, Chet doesn’t take long to fall back into his old life. He goes in and out of jail (even in Italy, Chet loved Italy), continues to need money and runs from debtors, and starts using again like a damn.
Then, at not even 59 years old, he falls from a hotel window in Amsterdam.
Accident, suicide, someone to whom he owed money? Who knows! Many things in his life remain unclear.
But how much I would have loved to have passed by that gas station….
lector
14 may 17
DeRank ™: 40,85
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