Thursday, August 22, 2013

That's My Home - Live in Tokyo, Japan, April 25, 1963

Louis Armstrong and His All Stars
Recorded April 25, 1963
Track Time 5:09
Written by Otis Rene, Leon Rene and Ben Ellison 
Recorded in Tokyo, Japan
Louis Armstrong, trumpet, vocal; Trummy Young, trombone; Joe Darensbourg, clarinet; Billy Kyle, piano; Arvell Shaw, bass; Danny Barcelona, drums.
Currently available on CD: See here (helps if you can read Japanese!)
Available on Itunes? No


Back in December, I wrote an 80th anniversary post on Louis Armstrong's history with the beautiful song, That's My Home. In addition to the two famous Victor recordings from 1932, I also included the stunning remake for Satchmo: A Musical Autobiography in 1956.

Those were all pretty well known to Pops nuts so it was with great pleasure that I got to spring an unissued live version from Newport in 1961 that over the years, had settled into being my favorite version. Just the fact that Louis was still playing this number--and playing it so well--at 60-years-old was cause for celebration and the response I got from readers justified my enthusiasm. 


After working myself into a lather, I wrote, "Well, now I have to go lie down but that's the end, unfortunately, of our look at 'That's My Home.' I don't know how much more I can handle but truthfully, more might pop up. Though this is the last surviving performance, Arvell Shaw joined the band in late 1962 and remembered Louis playing this often (making Shaw cry every time). And I've found reviews of Armstrong performances in both 1963 and 1964 that praise Louis's playing on this number. So it didn't disappear, but as of now, none of those other versions were performed in front of a recording device."


I'm happy to report that I spoke too soon! Earlier this summer I got a Facebook message my friend and fellow lover of all things Louis (including Prima and Jordan), Ron Canatella, who asked me if I noticed a new CD release of Louis and the All Stars live at the Latin Quarter in Tokyo, Japan, April 23, 1963. 

What??? A new Pops release that slipped by me!? I was shocked. Not only did I not know about the CD but I also didn't even know the set existed in any form. Nor did any of my discographer fans. 

I expressed this to Ron and immediately started Googling it, trying to find something--anything!--that I could purchase. But bless him, Ron already found it somehow and within minutes, sent me the link. That's what I call a true friend.

It's only a one-hour set and it's the All Stars doing what they did. A glance at the set list would make a naysayer say, "Nay nay, more Sleepy Time and Indiana and Blueberry Hill and Mack the Knife....ugh." But if you're already reading this, you know I have an unhealthy obsession with the All Stars so even if the set contains (almost) no surprises, 1963 has always been kind of the lost year for Armstrong recordings, with only a half-hour broadcast from December 31, 1962 and a DVD of an Australian concert (with little trumpet) surviving before the "Hello, Dolly!" session of December. So of course I wanted to hear how Pops was sounding during this period. The answer, of course, is fantastic.

But as already alluded to, there was one surprise and it's a dan-dan-dandy: the last surviving (for now!) live performance of "That's My Home," almost two full years after the Newport version! I couldn't wait to listen to it and sure enough, it's another knockout. The 1961 one still might be better overall because the band is completely locked in. Here, clarinetist Joe Darensbourg is a little pitchy and bassist Arvell Shaw turns in an erratic performance (maybe he cried every time he played it because of all the clams, not because of Louis's majesty).   Shaw actually joined in January and this is April so it's possible that "That's My Home" wasn't called very often--in fact, it's probable because a LOT of Armstrong survives from 1962 and it includes zero versions of this tune. And it was never in the book while Shaw was in the band the first three go-arounds, so it's possible he had never played it or heard it before. (He lays out during the interlude after Louis's vocal then comes in at the start instead of the bridge, another sign this was probably a new one for him.)

But I'll give him and Darensbourg a pass; this is the Louis Armstrong show and brother, he's the whole show, playing a soulful chorus up front, singing his heart out and then picking up that golden trumpet for 16 final triumphant bars. 

To show you that I have the world's greatest friends, after Ron sent it to me, I shared the Japanese concert with some trusted friends in my Armstrong inner circle. Trumpeter Phil Person is blessed (cursed?) with perfect pitch and he heard the recording as being slightly off. He took the time to pitch correct it and sent it back to me with everything in the proper key. So here is "That's My Home" the way it really sounded that night in Tokyo in 1963..enjoy! 




Phew. Those last 8, when Trummy takes the melody and Louis soars above....mm-mm-mm. Any comments out there from the gallery? Please share them below. As for me, I think I'm going to listen to it again. Thank you, Ron! Thank you, Phil!

And thank you, Louis!

Sunday, August 18, 2013

New York Hot Jazz Festival August 25!

I'm still slowly descending from the cloud nine that was my trip to New Orleans for the Satchmo Summerfest, but I can promise that I have a few new blogs in the can that will see the light of day this month. But until getting back to Pops full-time, a quick word for my New York friends about an exciting event taking place next week and involving what can be dubbed Louis's grandchildren.

Hot jazz hasn't exactly been in the mainstream of modern pop music, but it's never gone away. Anyone who has spent just a few minutes at my brother Michael Steinman's Jazz Lives blog, already knows that this swinging style of music is alive and well both in New York and California, while friends of mine have told me about scenes in Boston, Portland, Austin and elsewhere (not to mention New Orleans, where I don't think it has ever slowed down).

Of course, don't tell this to the jazz mainstream press. Anytime a writer from the New York Times or Down Beat or whatever decides to go slumming into a city's traditional jazz scene, it's always to write a "nostalgia" based piece. None of the musicians who play this music get the cover of Jazz Times (hell, can anyone name the last time Louis was on the cover of a jazz magazine? 2001?). Bop came in in the 1940s, everything before it got relegated to the museum and that's pretty much been the story for the last 65 years, with every magazine and column covering the modern-bop-free stars of today and yesteryear, but turning a blind eye to anyone who just wants to swing and play hot music, preferably for dancers.

Well, even though the above cities I listed all have popular, if underground, traditional scenes, the reality is for any kind movement to really gain traction, it has to blow up in New York City at some point. And that's what is happening now.

While in New Orleans, I noticed my Facebook news feed blowing up as friend after friend and musician after musicians shared the same Vanity Fair article from August 1: How a Swath of 20-Somethings Have Tuned In to 1920s Pop. Written by Will Friedwald, who really understands this music, it has shined a spotlight on the youth movement in traditional jazz that is currently exploding in New York.

Actually, the fuse has been lit for some time now but the full explosion seems to be taking place next Sunday, August 25, when the first annual New York Hot Jazz Festival takes place at Mehanata on the Lower East Side. The festival is the brainchild of producer Michael Katsobashvili, someone I only met for the first time in June, but I've grown to love as he is a passionate lover the music (and a worshiper of Pops). The music starts at 2 p.m. tomorrow and technically ends at 10 p.m. with a set by the great Bria Skonberg, but there's planned after parties and jam sessions so who knows who long it will run. Or if it will ever end.

I've noticed it for years now: more and more young musicians popping up all over NY interested in Louis Armstrong and the pre-bop style, musicians who find more of a challenge in ensemble interplay than running Coltrane substitutions. (Disclaimer: no disrespect to Coltrane or any of the other modern jazz stylists. I love all kinds of jazz, though my heart is with the traditional/swing stuff. The point is, it's a big world and there's plenty of room for anyone to play any style they like. There might not be plenty of gigs for that, but I see no need in reviving the jazz wars of the 1940s and to start calling out moderninsts and for them to start mocking the traditional players. No one's getting rich, so can't we all just play the music we want? End of rant.)

David Ostwald is one of my closest friends in the world. For the last 13 years, he leads the Louis Armstrong Eternity Band each Wednesday at 5:30 at Birdland. Personnel always changes so David has used just about anybody you can think of in New York. In recent years, though, he's noticed that he's started using younger and younger musicians, not as a gimmick, but because they're good. It's in his band that I first heard Bria Skonberg, Peter and Will Anderson, Dion Tucker, Kevin Dorn, Ehud Asherie, Adrian Cunningham, Marion Felder, Vinny Raniolo and others play live.

More and more of these players keep popping up in different venues around the five boroughs. In Queens, the Louis Armstrong House Museum has done its part by presenting three "Hot Jazz/Cool Garden" concerts in the Armstrong's spacious Japanese garden. I don't quite know how long the series has been going on--it was already going when I started working there in 2009--but I do know in the beginning, the House had trouble finding young, up-and-coming traditional bands, and most of the concerts were in front of small audiences, maybe 50, 60 people.

Yesterday, we had our final Hot Jazz/Cool Garden concert of this season. It sold out. All three sold out. We had to start advance ticket sales because last summer, we had lines around the block. Each time out, the advance sales were gone before the day of the concert. And in the audience, of course, were the older jazz fans, those who saw Louis live and still collect records. And my goodness, do I love those people! But also, this summer brought more and more people in their 20s and 30s, people who might not know much about Louis Armstrong or traditional jazz....but they do now after an afternoon in Corona, Queens. And they'll be back.

I've said it for years (to no one in particular) but the whole pre-bop aesthetic, to me, has always seemed like the only type of jazz that really gets people going, makes them want them to dance, makes them want to scream. I've been in those types of audiences, where the surge of emotion and noise is coming from both directions, on and off the bandstand. I've been in plenty of concert halls and respected plenty of quiet policies, but at some point, it's fun to let loose. I listen to broadcasts and concerts from the 1950s all the time--Louis, the George Lewis band, "Dr. Jazz" broadcasts from Central Plaza, etc.--and it's always blown me away, hearing the sounds of obviously younger people screaming and clapping for this style of music. That generation wanted to have fun and this music encouraged it. When the other styles of jazz said, "Shh, pipe down and listen," those fans got up, went to rock and roll, went to Ray Charles, went to Motown, and went right on down the line of American pop music, leaving jazz in the dust. But I've seen it for myself too many times now that when this style gets cooking, it elicits the same reaction in young people in 2013 as it did in 1953, 1943, 1933 and 1923. And it's not about nostalgia, it's about music that makes you feel good and want to move.

Because already, after the Vanity Fair article exploded, I've seen some dumb people of my generation invoke the dreaded "Swing" boom of the 1990s. I was in high school at the time and was initially thrilled to see my kind of music explode--oh, to be in high school and hear the Squirrel Nut Zippers' "Hell" come on the radio with that trumpet solo by Duke Heitger! But almost immediately, the movement became about bands with goofy names, wearing zoot suits and singing stupid songs about drinking or partying. The whole thing became a parody of itself before it even started and then crashed and burned, relegated to VH1 nostalgia specials about how dumb the 90s were. (And brother, they sure were.)

But this is different. These are actual musicians with a respect for the past, studying the masters and coming up with something fresh to say, never directly imitating their heroes (a problem with the first wave of white New Orleans revival bands, who mimicked King Oliver records right down to the woodblock--which, of course, is not how the Oliver band sounded live!).

Enough from me. Damn, I did not expect to go on a rant like this but I guess I've had it building inside for quite some time, haha. How about some music? For many, the first explosion before next week's bigger bang, came at a June concert thrown by the Sidney Bechet Societ and featuring what was billed as "Dan Levinson's Jam Session of the Millennium." It was almost a recurring joke in the audience beforehand--"Haha, Jam session of the millennium? That's an awful lot to live up to!"--which was followed by a recurring conversation afterwards more or less consisting of, "Holy shit, it lived up to the hype!"

The great Dan Levinson was the ringleader of it all but also, I believe, the only musician on stage over the age of 40. If you don't believe that these kids are the real deal, sit back for the next 130 minutes and watch the whole thing right here:


I think I'll quit while I'm ahead (that might have been 500 words ago) but I'll say it again, if you're remotely near New York City, come out to the New York Hot Jazz Festival, even if you can only catch a set or two. You and I can sit around and listen to Louis records all day but don't forget to support the actual living, breathing, swinging musicians keeping Louis's legacy alive.

I'll leave Louis with the last words, taken from a letter he wrote to young trumpeter Chris Clifton
on February 6, 1954 (you can read the whole thing here), after Clifton wrote him and told him he was a young trumpeter playing "Dixieland." Take it, Satch:

"‘Man, – you haven’t the least idea – how thrilled, I am, to be able to sit down and write to a ‘Cat, who feels the same way that ‘I do about the greatest music on this man’s earth,—DIXIELAND… ‘Lawd-today…’Gate—you’re a man after my own heart… I’ve always said—Dixieland is Universal… From one end of the earth to the other–the music’s the same, so help me….."

"Which again, makes my word come true, especially when I said – music is, er, wa, – Universal….. You yourself – could have done the same…Because, from the way that I dugged your very fine letter, – you take your horn serious the same as ‘I do…. God Bless Ya Son [...] And every country that we travel into, our music was the same… So you see in case you’d decide to make a tour to anywhere in the world, have no fear because our music (I’d say) is more of a Secret Order [...] real honest to goodness dixieland music will live for ever – without a doubt…"

"There was a certain big time musician, who made a nasty crack, as to, Dixieland Music, is ‘first grade music… Now – maybe you dont pick up on this Cat…But, I, being in the game for over forty years, etc, can easily see, that this young man who said it, the reason why he said it because he hasn’t the soul enough to express himself in dixie land music like he really would like to… So, he’ll say those slurring words knowing that the country’s full of idiots (also) who will believe him for a while, thinking that there really is such things as to different grades of music for the world to abide by [...] Where I came from, there weren’t but two kinds of music, – good or bad [...] Anyway my friend…Don’t let no one change your mind…Play the music that your heart tells you to play…There will always be somebody to gladly live it with you…"

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Satchmo Summerfest 2013 Recap (With Videos!)

Hi all! Well, the 13th annual Satchmo Summerfest is over and in Pops's parlance, it was a gassuh. If you were there--or if you follow me on Facebook--I don't have to tell you that. It was my sixth Summerfest and speaking for myself, it was the best one yet. The seminars were great, the music was great and the fans were great--an estimated 53,000 people attended this year! Louis lives!

Now, I've written recaps of my previous five Summerfest appearances here on the blog, usually consisting of lots of photos and sentences like, "Wow, what a weekend!" Friends from around the world then write in with something akin to, "Boy, we would have loved to been there and seen your presentations." Well, the Satchmo Summerfest gods heard your pleas! This year, for the first time ever, the Seminars inside the Old U.S. Mint were filmed and live streamed on the web. Of course, I did not know this until ten minutes before my first lecture, otherwise, I would have alerted my blog readers (I did quickly mention it on Facebook and had friends from Israel, Germany, Austin and all parts of the world watching).

But then I found out that not only were the seminars being live streamed, they were being archived on the web for 30 days after the Summerfest! It's taken me about three days to recoup from weekend and get around to blogging so now, it's probably down to 26 or 27 days, but that should be plenty of time to enjoy it all. (They also gave me a personal copy of everything and said I could post it so if the links expire and there's still interest, I might do just that.)

The master list of ALL seminars (and other great evenings of music at the Mint) can be found here. As for the seminars I was involved in, I'll post them directly here.

I actually got the ball rolling on Friday afternoon, interviewing one of my idols--and friends--Dan Morgenstern. This was the third straight year Dan was interrogated, but this time we did it a little differently by focusing on his days as a writer. Here 'tis:

Watch live streaming video from directionofsky at livestream.com


The next two Friday sessions I'm sharing don't directly involve me, but they do involve my place of business, the Louis Armstrong House Museum. First up, Director Michael Cogswell presented a look at Louis's record collection, with lots of great excerpts from Pops's private tapes:



And then Curator David Reese took the crowd "Inside Pops' House," with a room by room, insider's look at the Armstrong House. Some great pics and stories here....how luck I am to work here!

Watch live streaming video from directionofsky at livestream.com


I closed the show on Friday with my first "Cinematic Satch" presentation, focusing on some of Louis's televised duets. A couple of these have surfaced on YouTube but most should be pretty rare to my readers: Louis with Sinatra, Rex Harrison, Bing, Velma, Jack Teagarden, Danny Kaye, Jimmy Durante, Dean Martin, Pearl Bailey, Harpo Marx, Sammy Davis Jr., Johnny Cash and Lambchop. I was told I had an hour slot but I totally over-prepared. Fortunately, the Festival people told me I could go long so I went for 91 minutes instead of 60...and was rewarded with a standing ovation for my efforts! (Oh, who am I fooling; it's Pops's efforts, I just pushed the button.)

Watch live streaming video from directionofsky at livestream.com


Friday was great but Saturday, August 3rd will go down as one of the most memorable days of my life, for two main reasons. First, there was my musical coming out party as part of the Satchmo Summerfest All Stars. If you permit me, a little background. I've been playing the piano since I was 7 and have been leading bands in NJ since I was 19 (I'll be 33 next month) but it's always been strictly minor leagues. We have fun and have our little friends-and-family following but it was always just a hobby with me. Not bragging, but practice, for one this, is nonexistent, especially since the advent of kids in my house. And once the economy went in the tank around 2007, full band gigs became more or less nonexistent. These days I play once, maximum twice a month, in a duo setting with a friend from high school who uses the stage name Bootsy Spankins, PI. We have a lot of fun and get a great response but Carnegie Hall it is not (nor is that what I've ever aimed for).

But last year, Summerfest Director Marci Schramm looked at the list of seminar presenters and thought hey, David Ostwald plays tuba, Bruce Raeburn plays drums, Yoshio Toyama plays trumpet, David Sager plays trombone, Ricky plays piano, Dan Morgenstern said he'd sing....there's enough historians to form a band! It seemed like a fun idea so I said sure, let's do it, thinking we'd do a little indoor jam session/seminar and call it a day.

Well, about a month before the festival the thing blew up: there'd be a rehearsal at Preservation Hall in front of media, we'd do a one hour set on the big stage in front of hundreds of people plus there'd be a hourlong set indoors as part of the seminars. And besides the names listed above, Tim Laughlin and Wycliffe Gordon--absolute masters of the clarinet and trombone respectively--would join, as well as Yoshio's wife, Keiko, on banjo. When I got down to New Orleans and checked Offbeat magazine, the blurb for the "Satchmo Summerfest All Stars" said nothing about it being a gimmick featuring historians but rather a jam session featuring "stars from all over the world." I almost died.

There was a rehearsal at Preservation Hall on Friday, in which nerves got to me and I thought I played poorly. That night over dinner, I beat myself up to my wife and our friends, about how I was an Italian restaurant pianist on the Jersey Shore; who was to hang in there with Wycliffe and Yoshio and the rest? It was the closest thing to a midlife crisis I've ever had.

But come Saturday, as soon as I hit the stage, everything disappeared and I felt completely at home. I thought I played very well and everyone else seemed to agree, complimenting me and saying "the secret was out" about my "hidden talent." I'll let you decide. My wife did shoot a few videos of the outdoor performance so here they are. First, this one has the introductions followed by the go-to openers of "When It's Sleepy Time Down South" and "Indiana." When the band modulated during the final rideout chorus on "Indiana," it became one of the most emotional moments of my life. I've never experienced a surge of music like that from the bandstand and the next thing I knew, I was almost levitating from my bench. Now I know why so many have devoted their lives to playing this music....


Unfortunately, that giant video depleted my wife's phone of all its memory. Yoshio followed by absolutely nailing Louis's "When Your Smiling" routine, at the same tempo and key as the 1956 "Autobiography" version. Again, I had the chills, but as of now, no video has surfaced. When Margaret attempted to film the next number, "St. Louis Blues," she was told there was no space so she spent the first chunk of the tune deleting like crazy. When she got the green-light to film, she only got 2:40, missing the last bits of the rocking rideout. However, she did get another personal highlight, as my two-chorus blues solo was given a "one more" gesture by Yoshio (visible in the video), leading me to make one more two-fisted attack that shows why Dan Morgenstern once christened me "Barrelhouse Ricky"! When Dan saw me afterwards, he shouted, "You broke it up! You broke it up!" Midlife crisis over...



And speaking of Dan, he was our boy singer! David Ostwald celebrates Dan's birthday every October at Birdland and the evening usually climaxes with Dan singing a ballad. But the Summerfest was his official debut in front of a giant festival crowd and I thought he did a great job on "After You've Gone." The routine was to end it after the second chorus but the band was feeling good and we swung out into an unplanned third go-around. Dan handled it like a pro, first making a joke, then entering perfectly with a righteous closing "after you've gone away." A great memory!



That was that has turned up--for now--but we kept going for the full hour--"Rockin' Chair," "Struttin' with Some Barbecue," "I'm Confessin'," "Swing That Music," and a closing "Sleepy Time"--and were rewarded with a long standing ovation. One of the great moments of my life, hands down.

I spent the next hour receiving congratulations and talking about how nothing could top it. But I was wrong. Thankfully, I was wrong. Next up, David Ostwald and myself had to interview George Avakian about the upcoming Mosaic Records boxed set of Armstrong material I'm co-producing with Scott Wenzel (January release date!). I had a gameplan with regards to some questions I had for George and some excerpts I wanted to play, but I never had time to converse with George about that beforehand.

Now, George is 94 and though the mind is sharp as a tack, he's a little quiet and sometimes bounces from story to story, hard for any interviewer to reign in. And sure enough, 15 minutes in, we're talking about "Louis Armstrong Plays W.C. Handy" and playing excerpts from that....all fine, but nothing to do with the Mosaic set. The crowd was enjoying it but I knew I had great stuff from "Ambassador Satch" in my back pocket and I was worried I wasn't going to get to it.

Finally, David and I got George back on the subject of "Ambassador Satch." Once I started playing some of the unissued material, a funny thing happened: George's voice got stronger and he got more animated. Things were going great, but again, time was not on my side. I had a 16-minute interview between George and Louis that I wanted to play but by the time I checked the clock, there was less than 15 minutes to go. But as you'll see, I didn't care, announced we were running over and played the full 16-minute interview. George hadn't heard it in over 55 years and it didn't take long before tears filled his eyes. The more he listened to his easygoing rapport with Pops, the more emotional he got, finally breaking down after Louis said, "You know, George, there's no such thing as old age in music." George buried his face in his hands and just listened. I didn't want to be tactless but I also knew I had the best seat in the house so I discreetly snapped this picture:
Some friends were surprised that I took it--and that I posted it--but I couldn't resist. There's something beautiful about George's raw emotion and the light shining down from the upper left corner. It's as if the spirit of Pops was shining down on everyone and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. If you make it to the end of this video, the standing ovation and following "hip, hip hooray" led by emcee extraordinaire Jon Pult gave me the chills. God bless George Avakian! A true MOMENT in a weekend filled with them.

Watch live streaming video from directionofsky at livestream.com


After the "All Stars" performance and George's moment in the sun, I was emotionally exhausted but still had to go for one more round of "Cinematic Satch." When I originally pitched the idea to devote an entire session to the 1962 German special "The Satchmo Story," Franz Hoffman hadn't posted the whole thing on YouTube. But even though it's now easy to find online, almost nobody at the Mint had ever seen it so it was still full of fresh material. Here's how it went down:

Watch live streaming video from directionofsky at livestream.com


Sunday the 4th--Pops's birthday--was my best chance to have a day as a civilian with my wife, so I missed some great stuff including a presentation by the great David Sager and a panel featuring three excellent trumpeters, Wendell Brunious, Mark Braud and Connie Jones (I'm looking forward to watching those two seminars myself!). But I was back for the final "Satchmo Summerfest All Stars" performance, this time in a seminar setting. We started off as a small group as three of the horns--Yoshio, Sager and Laughlin--couldn't make it, leaving Wycliffe alone out front. However, Ed Polcer had been in the audience and though he was walking the festival grounds, he was eventually spotted and recruited to join the front line. Then banjoist Seva Venet, in between gigs, noticed the rhythm section was missing his instrument of choice so he jumped on stage. And eventually, Sager's gig ended and he made the second half. Only in New Orleans, folks, do you get world class musicians jumping up on stage at a moment's notice (or less)!

"Sleepy Time" and "Indiana" opened it and we did another stomping "St. Louis Blues," but then we did some different stuff: "Blue Turning Grey Over You," a Morgenstern vocal on "Baby Won't You Please Come Home," Jon Pult's vaudevillian turn on "On a Coconut Island" and finally, another swinger to close the proceedings, "Chinatown My Chinatown," hot hot hot. Again, an absolute thrill to a part of this band! (Side note: in 1996, I attended my second jazz concert of all time, Lincoln Center's "Who Is Jelly Roll Morton," which featured Wycliffe Gordon. I've been a fan ever since. He's a wonderfully sweet guy and it was a pleasure getting to spend time in Chicago with him last month. But to play behind him? And to look up, see him look at me, smile and nod his head? Well, pardon me while I gush!!)



And then it was left to me to close the proceedings, as I reprised a lecture I originally did four years ago on "Louis and New Orleans." Very, very little from this is on YouTube; if you only have time for a little, watch the complete "Boy from New Orleans" from "The David Frost Show" in 1971 and try not to cry:



That was it for me but as I mentioned, there's a ton of great stuff to watch (and a ton of great pictures on my Facebook page, including an entire album devoted to pics of what I ate) so you can continue living the 2013 Satchmo Summerfest vicariously through the magical internet. Thanks to every single person who helped put on the festival, as well as anyone who stopped to say hello and talk Pops. Counting the days til next year!