jazzfish: book and quill and keyboard and mouse (Media Log)
16) See ten movies at the Vancouver International Film Festival. (10/10) 2015-10-04

I did not expect to knock that off the list this year, but this was a decent year for VIFF movies. And I've still got at least two more coming this week.

Very good: A Tale of Three Cities, High-Rise, Ayanda
Good: 600 Miles, 808
Not bad: Beeba Boys, The Anarchists, The Classified File, A Perfect Day
Not my thing: The Assassin

many many films )
jazzfish: an open bottle of ether, and George conked out (Ether George)
I don't know.

I'm tired much of the time. Partly that's from having to be On eight hours a day again, I expect, but mostly it's from waking up at 6:30 6:15 sometime that starts with a five, and screw you, brain, I'd rather collect that last half hour of sleep.

(I could sleep in. Core Hours are ten to four and as long as I get my eight hours in nobody cares when I get in. But going in an hour later means fighting terrible skytrain traffic instead of just moderate, and going in two hours later means not leaving until six, which is Not Even Remotely Acceptable. I think this is the worst commute I've had since the summer I spent counting office furniture in Maryland. We have *got* to move closer in.)

I don't know if I'm actually too tired to keep up with what I'm doing or not.

I'll feel better about it once I'm comfortable checking mail & LJ/DW there. ... that was not intentionally a tautology, but I guess it turned out to be anyway.

Due in part to surprise!employment, I am not going to my twenty-year high school reunion next month.

There are maybe a half dozen people I'd be genuinely excited to see, mostly people I haven't seen in a good many years. It'd be nice to see a dozen or two more. The rest... I really don't care about. I didn't realise how much I don't care about them until I started seeing reunion-planning messages pop up on Facebook, and having vague memories float up associated with names and faces.

I am no longer in high school. It took me a long time to come to terms with that. Maybe it also took moving out here, where the nearest Jeffersonites I know are three hours and an international border away.

What I really regret missing is the autumn trees. I'd been kicking around the idea of going down to Blacksburg because the Applachians in October are not to be missed. Maybe next year.
jazzfish: A cartoon guy with his hands in the air saying "Woot." (Woot.)
1) Write up a postmortem on the previous 101 in 1001.

First off: $382.61. That is the end result of 100) Donate $10 to Planned Parenthood for each incomplete item on this list.

$382.61. Over a third of the items on the list unfinished.

Partial credit for items listed as X/Y, and I gave myself half credit for several more, so it's arguably even worse than that.


To the left: over sixty percent of the list finished. So, yay.

What have I learned?

1) Items in the style of "Do this until the end of the 1001 days" are terrible. They give me zero sense of accomplishment and feel like an obligation hanging over my head. I've gotten rid of all of those for this round.

2) Items in the style of "Do this for a specified period of time" are frustrating. Did a thing for five months and then stumbled in the home stretch? Too bad, no checkmark for you. I've gotten rid of all of those too.

3) Items in the style of "Do this X times" work well, because there's incremental progress.

4) It's good to have a mix of things that are easy and short-term, easy and long-term, and hard in various aspects. I won't get all the hard things but I'll get some of them, which is more than I'd get otherwise.

5) Some individual notes:
  • Organizing is easy, as is money.
  • People are hard, but not as hard as I'd expected.
  • Writing is hard. No shock there.
  • Gaming is hard. That does surprise me; a lot of factors went into it. (Also, did I really not play any video games at all? I guess not. Huh.)
6) Overall, an interesting experiment, and worth repeating at least once more.
jazzfish: A small grey Totoro, turning around. (Totoro)
Hard to believe it's been a thousand days since I started the previous one of these. Expect a post-mort analysis... mm, probably over the weekend.

I can't really improve on my blurb from then: The idea is that a) a concrete and wide-ranging list of 101 items, b) a not terribly restrictive but still somewhat limiting timeframe of 1001 days, and c) public accountability can all combine to form a sort of Voltron of extrinsic motivating factors, since I'm not doing so hot with intrinsic motivation lately (or ever, really).

Note that 101 tasks in 1001 days works out to roughly three tasks per month, on average.

101 in 1001: 2015/09/23-2018-06-20
Completed: 3
(Abandoned: 0)
A large list )
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
I could write about work (garden-variety corporate stupidity coupled with software-industry-specific stupidity) but that would just make me irritated, so I won't.

Besides, I've been meaning to write about some music stuff for a couple of weeks now. That was the first time I've ever done any sort of formal play-by-ear. That is, my teacher picks a key and plays a few notes, and I play them back to her, and repeat.

The first time or two it was fun but exhausting. It works my brain in a way I'm not at all used to. A couple of times I could stop trying to think note-names and just *play* and it worked, which was amazing and inexplicable. And then today... today it was just fun.

And I am apparently pretty good at it, which is a great shock to me as I've always thought my ear wasn't all that hot. I can mostly tell if a note's out of tune, but not always whether it's high or low.

Then it occurred to me that this isn't the first time I've done this. In high school, on cello, I picked out the melody to "Chariots of Fire" and the bass line to "Stand By Me." So, I dunno.

Side note: I seem to have a much harder time hearing notes in voices. I don't know why that would be but it might explain some of my inability to carry a tune in a bucket.

On being a beginning music student, by [livejournal.com profile] siderea. (Who, incidentally, is brilliant, and you should all be reading her stuff, and probably throwing money at her as well.) I was mostly Xena, with a lot of Quentin mixed in.

I started playing cello in third grade. I stuck with it because, I don't know. Because it was Something I Did and I didn't know how to stop doing things, and because I had some friends who I only knew/saw because of cello. I don't think I really aspired to anything musically.

Except that my uncle Jimmy Dale (not to be confused with my uncle Jim) knew that I played cello, and one Christmas he gave me a cassette of Skylife, by the Turtle Island String Quartet. I was... as blown away as it was possible for me to be at the time, which was "kind of." I had no idea you could do that with a string quartet. I wanted to be able to do that. To play like that, popping and sliding and all.

I never said anything about it. Certainly not to my parents, but not to my teacher either. I'd moved on from the early-music violist who taught me at first, to Liz West, a bassist who ... was probably only a year or two older than my current viola teacher, now that I think of it. I suspect Ms West would have been thrilled if I'd ever said that I wanted to play like Turtle Island. But I didn't, because I was in eighth grade and miserable, and I'd been stuck in Fayettehell for five years, and I still stung from the lack of support I'd gotten when I'd said I wanted to be a writer. I'd learned better than to want anything.

And then we moved, and I went from being the second-best cellist in the district to second-worst in the school, and eventually something had to give and it was music.

When I started taking viola lessons last year I thought I was David. To some extent I still am. (With that same mix of Quentin to go with it, of course.) But I put on Skylife for my commute in to work one day last week... and I'm starting to suspect I might be an Emily as well.
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
...thought it was just a road from a to b

Actually, when I went up Grouse this morning I was pretty sure it was a mountain. Made the hike in 1:53, which is a terrible time for me, mitigated by a) not having my inhaler, b) not having done much exercise in the past month or so, and c) encountering a chatty hiking companion at about the quarter-mark.

Plans to sit up there and do some writing once I'd had lunch and recovered a bit were derailed by being too exhausted to write. Something about having effectively climbed two miles worth of stairs. I wandered around a bit and then headed back down. and after the two-hour trip home had a nice hot bath.

Tomorrow marks the end of my fallow year. I am not really looking forward to work but I'd be looking forward even less to getting evicted for nonpayment of rent, so there's that. I hope I'm overreacting, that balancing work and life won't be nearly the difficulty I'm afraid it is and that everything will be okay. Only one way to find out I guess.
jazzfish: Two guys with signs: THE END IS NIGH. . . time for tea. (time for tea)
The True Story of Kudzu, the Vine That Never Truly Ate the South: "Kudzu has appeared larger than life because it’s most aggressive when planted along road cuts and railroad embankments-- habitats that became front and center in the age of the automobile."

I'm Getting Really Tired of My Mysterious Flaky Friend: "Mostly, she was just a really good listener, always asking questions and wanting to know more about you -- where did you grow up? What are your parents like? Did they get each other anniversary gifts? Did they use a top-tier security system or own dogs? Stuff like that." This may well be the best thing I have read on the Toast.

Tattúínárdǿla saga: If Star Wars Were an Icelandic Saga: "Meanwhile Lúkr shipwrecks on an island in the Faroes called Dagóba (the name is of unknown origin but probably Celtic) where he meets and is trained by the great warrior Jóði, who was a companion of Víga-Óbívan in his youth; Jóði continues to incite Lúkr to kill Veiðari, but his remarks are confusing in the text as preserved and are probably much damaged by later redactors – the word order is considerably jumbled and many of his comments reflect anachronistic Christian sentiments." Oh man, this is GREAT. (via [personal profile] vass)

Elopement in Situ: "More than anything, I think, we were introverts who didn't want a fuss made; our devotion to one another did not need a public demonstration to be real." THIS. I met Jonathan and Jennifer at Farthing Party, and wish they lived close enough that our paths would cross more often.

The Most Metal Deaths in Middle-earth, Ranked: "Gandalf died after he, 'Threw down my enemy... and broke the mountain-side where he smote it in his ruin,' which is the most metal line in the entire trilogy, and possibly all of English literature."

The Sea of Crises: an article on sumo, an attempted coup, and being lost in yourself in Tokyo. Long but worth reading.
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
We're finally watching Treme, David "The Wire" Simon's series about a poor New Orleans neighborhood in the aftermath of Katrina.

Christ. If that storm had hit just a year earlier, before the 2004 election... well. I doubt I'd be in Vancouver, for one thing.

Also, when John Goodman is one of the least interesting parts of your show, either you have an amazing cast or you are criminally underusing John Goodman.

  • Catbox
  • Call Canada Revenue about missing tax refund Tax return accepted, will finally be processed on Friday.
  • Write to a random internet person Wrote to TWO random internet people! This is, in fact, more soul-crushing than jobhunting is.
  • Jobhunt Nothing new available. I did schedule a final interview for Thursday at a place that it would probably not totally suck to work.
  • Eat a thing Eggs and toast! Of which, one came out fine if v.slightly undercooked, and one overcooked. Still tasty.
  • Viola
  • Organize scattered novel brainstorming notes, preferably into something resembling an outline, or at least a structure.

Right. Back on my head.
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
Turns out getting an enclosed litterbox didn't solve all the problem, because the problem comes from the cat not bothering to get all the way *in* the box. This is partly due to arthritis in his hips, and partly due to him having to go SO BADLY that he can't or doesn't want to hold it until he gets into the box and turns around. We've upped his antiinflammatory dose and moved the litterbox into the living room, closer to where he sleeps, and those seem to have fixed the problem.

I mean, ultimately the problem is the arthritis, which traces back to Chaos being an Elder Cat (he turns sixteen in October). To quote Beckett, "You're on Earth, there's no cure for that!" But he's still perfectly happy, if a bit wobbly in the back end. So we keep him comfortable and give him lots of cuddles.

I'm a bit worried about the winter. This is not an apartment that retains heat all that well, except in the summer. I suspect that we're going to have to get out the electric blanket for him at night, and then Kai will insist on stealing half of it.

I have viola thoughts but those haven't quite gelled yet. Not unlike my playing of the Kreutzer etude.
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
One of the great disappointments in my life is that [personal profile] uilos Does Not Eat Eggs.

I am a big fan of Breakfast Any Time, and over the last holy cow ten years I've more or less perfected my pancake recipe. (Although these days instead of "1 cup flour" it's "5 oz flour," because flour should be measured by weight not volume.) I make pretty good crepes, too, and my waffles are only okay but I blame that on having a not so good waffle iron. Real Breakfast is a thing that happens, at least one day a weekend.

I don't get to make eggs for two, though. Which is a shame, because I like eggs, and there's an awful lot of things you can do with them. So I only get eggs when I'm willing to cook for just me, and also to do the dishes from actually cooking something.

Scrambled eggs are easy: skillet on low-medium heat, a little butter in the skillet, beat the eggs but not too much and mix in some milk and chili powder, and go. (I am not a believer in "cheesy scrambled eggs," mostly on the grounds that it's a pain in the neck to clean up melted cheese and egg.) Omelettes are harder, but the failure mode of "omelette" is scrambled eggs with stuff, so that's alright.

I've tried poaching eggs, and I mostly end up with a mess. A few years ago I got a couple of silicone "poach pods," which hold the egg and float in a covered pot of boiling water. This makes something close enough to poached eggs for my taste. I can never get the yolks right, though. Either they're too runny, or they're solid and I might as well have hard-boiled them. What I'm looking for is something Lewis Grizzard described as "over medium": "The yolk shouldn't run out when you cut it. It should ooze."

A couple of weeks ago Shauna ([livejournal.com profile] idoru, not that she posts anymore) put up a link on Facebook to the basted egg. That's "basted," not "blasted" or "bastard," though I suppose [personal profile] uilos would disagree. It's sort of halfway between frying and poaching. I've tried it a couple of times, and their description of what happens to the yolk isn't really accurate. It doesn't so much "change colour" as it develops a sort of translucent skin of cooked egg-white over it. When the skin covers the whole thing, it's nearly overdone and you should have served it up about ten seconds ago. It's tasty, though. Served over toast the yolk sort of seeps in, and the whites aren't as crispy-crunchy as I get with fried eggs. It has replaced "scrambled" as my go-to egg.

I haven't tried the egg-over-tortilla-basted-with-salsa that the article describes. Maybe next week for lunch.

(happy birthday, sor!)
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
As of today I've been unemployed for a year.

I'm less unhappy than I was when I was employed. That... I think that's the only thing I have to show for it, that and one completed story and the beginnings of a novel. And the beginnings of what might eventually be "music" on the viola.

It's not about accomplishing anything. It's about rebuilding reserves. It's about no longer feeling crushed. It's about being able to find joy in more than just rare flashes.

Still hard to shake the sense that I've wasted the year.

It doesn't help that I'm less than a month away from the end of my 101 in 1001 project. I have thoughts on that as well but they can wait until late September.

101 in 1001 update )
jazzfish: Owly, reading (Owly)
The trick is to channel my perfectionism and sense of accomplishment/reward out of video games and into viola instead.

What are you reading?

Samuel Beckett: The Last Modernist, by Anthony Cronin. I am four hundred pages into this six-hundred page biography and Beckett has just started writing Waiting for Godot (1948 or so). It's been interesting but not 400pp of interesting. Mostly it establishes that Beckett was a giant misogynistic asshole. Given the attitudes inherent in what of his plays I've read/seen this is no great surprise, but it's still kind of shocking to have it all laid out like this.

What did you just finish reading?

Star Door, by Stephanie Charette. It's good. It needs a copyedit and the, mm, second quarter drags a bit (I would structure the middle half differently and cut some stuff, but I'm not Steph). But the characters are good, the voices are distinct, the conceit is not one I'd seen before or at least not taken to this logical conclusion, and the last half barrels towards an exciting and unexpected climax. With a little luck everyone else will get to read it in a couple of years.

Also I reread Scott Lynch's A Year and a Day In Old Theradane, because it's online and I couldn't stop once I started. I heard Scott read from this awhile ago and am pleased to report it's as good as I had hoped/expected. "And then I went back and stole all the death spiders!"

What do you think you'll read next?

I don't really know. Probably something off the To-Be-Read Shelf because I'm running out of time. That or something on the Unread tag so I can decide whether to keep it.
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
I've been doing a lot of complaining lately but life isn't all bad.

We solved the cat pee problem by going back to an enclosed litterbox. The trouble with this is that the litterbox no longer fits under the sink in the bathroom. So we're experimenting with where to put the box. Currently it's in the entryway, which may or not work long-term.

Chaos has had a delicate stomach ever since we nuked his thyroid last summer. Thankfully, he's also taken to singing the song of his people before he yukes anything up, so we have some advance warning. A few weeks ago it occurred to me to try scooping him up and pointing him at the kitchen sink, rather than cleaning up whatever gets spit up on the carpet, and that works surprisingly well. I'd rather he weren't yuking a couple of times a week, but at least it's more easily cleanable.

On Satyrday we watched Jupiter Ascending with semilocal J--, Kathy, and writer-Steph. It's ... very pretty, and crammed full of backstory, and still kind of incoherent. It would have benefited from being either substantially chopped down, or spread out over two or three movies. Very very pretty, though. I almost regret not seeing it in the theatre.

Turns out the flooding problem from a couple of weeks ago was a result of a grease fire on the twenty-sixth floor. The sprinklers went off, and can't be shut down until the fire department shows up and says it's okay to shut them off, so they flooded everything from twenty-six on down. Luckily we're on thirty-one. One elevator is running; the other might be up in a month or so as they apparently have to have a part custom-made.

I've read a story for a quick critique for [personal profile] okrablossom and am reading Steph's novel, and have been bearing slowly forward on my own. Viola continues, and maybe I'm better than I was a month or two ago. (Been too warm to practice, which sounds like an excuse and sort of is, but only sort of.)

No word on the job front. Eh. Something will come up. Or it won't.
jazzfish: an evil-looking man in a purple hood (Lord Fomax)
1) I seem to have caught a summer cold. My sinuses feel like they've been packed with sand.

2) There seems to have been a flood (burst pipe, I assume) in the basement last night. The elevators have been out most of the day. Climbing twenty-five flights of stairs is Not Fun.

3) On Tuesday I saw a software testing job come up that wants "two years experience." Hey, says I, I've got that, thanks to three crappy software companies in Blacksburg a decade ago. May as well apply: I hate testing but they aren't gonna call me anyway. On Wednesday I got an email from a guy wanting me to come in for an interview today. Said guy wasn't there when I showed up, having apparently forgotten about the interview, and the person who did interview me basically said "we're looking for someone with automated testing experience," which I don't have, because crappy software companies. Complete waste of my time.

4) Icing on the cake: one of the cats (probably Chaos but we haven't seen him do it) is no longer into this whole "litterbox" thing. Near as we can tell he's getting into the litterbox and then mostly missing the litter. Contra LBJ, I'd much rather have him outside the litterbox peeing in than inside peeing out. Not sure what we're going to do about this.

In unrelated news, a barge carrying two houses just went by.
jazzfish: a black-haired man with a big sword. blood stains the snow behind (Eddard Stark)
Went to bed thinking about Pop Shackelford (digging into history trying to work out when the funeral was, so I can correctly date my acquisition of a dozen or so books), and I woke up this morning with this stuck in my head:

Warren Zevon - "Keep Me In Your Heart"
jazzfish: Owly, reading (Owly)
What are you reading?

At the moment, nothing.

What did you just finish reading?

About half an hour ago I finished Hannu Rajaniemi's The Causal Angel, sequel to The Quantum Thief and The Fractal Prince. These are, I think, the best new-to-me books I've read this year. They are heist novels with delightfully opaque characters (and multiple viewpoints, which is not something one often gets in a heist), set in a SF milieu overflowing with new concepts and strange ideas. Most of what goes on is made possible through some "quantum" handwaving; I don't know enough to say how plausible the science is, but it makes for an excellent story.

Apart from the conceptual firehose, Quantum Thief is for the most part a fine "we're here to steal a thing" story that develops more and more layers as it goes on... and then the epilogue delivers a genuine "oh shit" moment. Fractal Prince felt less impressive, possibly because everything is both bigger and smaller. I did enjoy the repeated nested stories (and the thematic resonance there), though. And Causal Angel... ties it all together in a fairly satisfactory way. I'm not entirely sure what I think of the ending. Will have to reread to decide, I expect.

I also reread Lord Valentine's Castle, by Robert Silverberg, with the intent of rereading the two sequels. LVC is a fantasy with occasional SF trappings. It was published in 1982 but feels like a throwback to an earlier era: a world that's miles wide and an inch deep, a huge cast of characters with litle characterization beyond one or two tics, and a downright languid pace. It's not bad but it didn't grab me. I can't see wanting to reread it, or to read the sequels, when there's so much other good stuff around. Into the Go-Away Pile.

What do you think you'll read next?

Something nonfic, I think; any fiction I pick up will be judged unfairly. Possibly Fred Pohl's autobiography, or the bio of Samuel Beckett I've been carrying around for years.
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
The weather has cooled off this week. Of course it has: several months ago we picked this weekend to go camping, so naturally it started raining off and on yesterday and won't really stop until tomorrow. We would have gone out anyway, but between the impending rain, having to skip one of the big Celebration Of Light fireworks shows, and family illnesses (not mine, someone else's, although we hadn't gotten as far as getting anyone to come in to give Chaos his pill) have all combined to make it a better idea to just stay home. So we did.

I'm looking for jobs again. Have been for a few weeks now. I haven't done this for about nine years so I'd forgotten how annoying and soul-draining it is, and how much cover letters suck. I mean, seriously: nobody will read them and yet you're expected to slave over them and produce perfect jewels of marketing prose for yourself. Fiction-writing rejectomancy's got nothing on job rejectomancy.

So far I've had two interviews with staffing agencies, which is a new one on me. These are companies that handle the candidate-searching part of finding applicants for companies: they send "acceptable" applicants along for a potential interview. This seems like a waste of money to me but I'm not a company, what do I know? I've also got a short phone interview scheduled for Monday, with what is literally the first place I put in a resume at.

If nothing else this has been an exercise in the kind of job I don't want: I'm not particularly interested in being the only writer, or in doing marketing writing, and those seem to be the kinds of positions coming up. I'd also prefer a contract or part-time position but I'm not seeing very many of those available. Oh well. Something will come up, eventually.
jazzfish: artist painting a bird, looking at an egg for reference (Clairvoyance)
From Wednesday:

Words: 1270
Total words: 6292
Neat things: Family. Also, the antagonist is a jerk. (Quelle surprise.)

Wording continues apace, in large part thanks to weekly writing sessions with Steph C. I have just about written up to the point where I know what happens, and I keep hoping a Brilliant Revelation will occur to me. Hasn't yet, but hey. I did find some family for my protagonist to bounce some characterisation off of so there's that.

Today was supposed to be writing, or at least plotting, in lieu of going out to Jericho Beach with folks. Instead there has been general poking at the internet, reading FILM CRITIC HULK's excellent article on Matthew Vaughn and Kingsman, playing backlogged Humble Bundle games, a little bit of plotting and worldbuilding and such, poking at BoardGameGeek, discovering a new game, going out and picking up said game at my Friendly Local Game Store, and a little bit of actual writing. Mostly in that order, although any of those that can be scattered throughout were.

I am not really 'stuck' so much as 'afraid of being stuck.' I am afraid of writing this scene because I don't know where it's going, which means I am going to turn my characters loose and let them yell at each other and see what they do. And I don't know them well enough to know at all what they're going to do, and I don't have enough scaffolding in place to know what (if anything) will happen plot-wise, and ... mostly I'm terrified that I'll write this and it will be pointless and will run me into a dead end I can't get out of.

I don't really understand this fear. I mean, I do, I live with it, but at the same time when I shine an outside light on it I don't, because it makes no sense. This is what writing is! I'm okay with writing that may be crap on the sentence level, that I can fix in editing. I guess now I have to get okay with writing that may be crap on the structural level, plot dead ends and contradicted character development and all of that.

Write to find out.


Also, I don't mind naming characters but I hate naming a whole bunch of them at once, and if my protagonist is going to have a family they do kind of need names.

... which leads down the rabbit-hole of naming conventions, and honorifics, and all of that. Bleh.


Jul. 6th, 2015 10:04 am
jazzfish: an evil-looking man in a purple hood (Lord Fomax)
I cannot in good conscience recommend the new zipline at Queen Elizabeth Park.

... bah, it's not even worth a full-length rant. It was poorly organised and poorly run (taking roughly five minutes per person, in the ridiculous heat, in no shade), and also a rip-off: the Groupon claims that "two rides per person" is normally $40 so their $24 is a Big Deal, but a "re-ride" is an additional $5 after the initial $20 ride. In addition they were offering free re-rides on Thursday, because they were a poorly organised shitshow this was their "soft launch" prior to the official opening on Saturday. So we've got bracelets good for a free re-ride if we decide to go again. Which seems unlikely.

The ride itself is pleasant and fun for the fifteen seconds you're in the air.

On the bright side, on the walk back we ran into a small flock of adolescent ravens, ground-feeding. They were definitely ravens and not crows: the rule is, if you're not sure then it's a crow but if it's way too big to be a crow then it's a raven. I honestly thought the first one was a young turkey or a pheasant at first.


jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
Tucker McKinnon


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Adventures in Mamboland

"Jazz Fish, a saxophone playing wanderer, finds himself in Mamboland at a critical phase in his life." --Howie Green, on his book Jazz Fish Zen

Yeah. That sounds about right.

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