For the disaffected writer who has everything*-the Jack Kerouac Bobblehead Doll!
*or has nothing but his slicked asphalt howling moon half-cup of coffee in Iowa soul, man.
Decrescendo.
The great Maynard Ferguson has passed from the scene. What a trumpet player! I had the privilege of seeing him in the winter of '75; my ears are still singed from that concert. RIP.