This morning I reinstated one of my favourite old habits – maybe it’s a 2008 resolution that crept in unobserved – Sunday morning music on the big hi-fi.
In the past, the axis has been Art Pepper and Bach. Today, for some reason, it was Miles Davis Ascenseur pour l’échafaud. Just fabulous, I thought. The slow, relaxing tempo; Miles’ trumpet.
Then I looked out the window and almost fell down laughing. It became a giant TV. The music was the perfect soundtrack to people ambling along the promenade.
As Sam and I ate breakfast, we pointed out to each other the people who the cameraman was zooming in on. Uncanny – but then Miles’ music is a film soundtrack.
The Lift to the Scaffold in God’s waiting room.
