And I don’t mean that in a vulgar way what so ever. I am, instead, talking about Wynton Marsalis who I had the pleasure of see at Jazz at Lincoln Center (which is in fact at the Time Warner Center). Watching Marsalis play and speak, it made me realize that every breathe this man took, every exhalation was meant to be put through a trumpet. The sheer joy he took from playing music, from being around music and musicians was so evident. You got the feeling that even if he wasn’t able to play in front of audiences in elaborate (and I’ll admit pretty beautiful) concert halls, he would still want to blow on that horn. There was so much passion in what he was doing, and it was interesting watching him amidst the rest of the orchestra. All of the orchestra (group?) were obviously talented musicians or they wouldn’t be there and they all obviously loved music, otherwise, again, they wouldn’t be there, but still it seemed like there was something different about Marsalis. Maybe it was simply that along with playing he was MCing the event, but when he came to the front of the stage to play, it was like the room changed. His playing literally gave me goosebumps at one point.
Now, admittedly, as an artist, this type of passion and commitment to your art and the history of your art and everything is somewhat daunting. Given Marsalis has over 24 years on me, but still, I was awed by his knowledge of jazz and then again, his passion for it. I love writing. I really do love it. But I got the feeling that if I took Marsalis trumpet away he’d be sweating like a junky in no time, and that’s intimidating for someone like me who has, perhaps, not yet found that fire. I know I want to write. I know I can write. And I know that there’s times when I’m writing and I’m on a roll and its the greatest feeling in the world. My heart will be racing, my legs will be twitching, and it takes all my energy just to keep me in my chair and to keep me pounding on the keys. But there’s so much more going on in life, and I suppose that’s where Marsalis and I seem to diverge. It truly seemed to me that he lived, ate, drank, and breathed Jazz and always had.
And as I said, maybe it is just an age thing. Maybe in 24 years, I’ll be sitting somewhere and some kid will think that I must have always ate, slept, breathed writing. Also, maybe its a product of my generation. We are a generation of multi-taskers and while that certainly helps us in some respects, it may also rob us of the type of passion Marsalis has for jazz. We’ve lost the ability to commit ourselves 100% to anything. Everything must be done at the same time as everything else. I’ll have you know that while I’m writing this, I’m also checking a sports blog and writing former teachers for grad school recommendations. My thoughts are hardly streamlined. This is, of course, also part of youth. We try different things. Experiment, one might say, until we find our true passion. But for some whether it be Marsalis with jazz or my boss with law, it seems that some people, and these are the ones that usually end up being the greats, didn’t find their passion so much as the passion seemed to find them (cliche, I know). Law is the only thing that makes sense to my boss just as it seems jazz does to Marsalis. This is not to say that they don’t have other interests (I’ve heard Marsalis actually has a wicked hook shot which he put to use in beating the starting center of my high school team after playing a concert there when I was a freshman), but more that their lives don’t make sense without this one thing, an experience that may be somewhat lost on my generation.