dope things


It’s hard for me personally to not associate sex with the word sax. Mostly because they sound alike, but also because of what the sax does to you.

It makes you cheer. It makes you move. It makes you sing and get loud. And while you’re enjoying it, it mesmerizes you.
I saw Maurice “The Sax Man” of Cleveland and I loved it! I don’t know for sure what I liked best: having met the band in rehearsals before and seeing them draw a huge crowd after, the exhilaration of bringing energy to the filming of the sax man movie, the talented and underrated Sly, Slick, and Wicked, the intimate House of Blues venue, the surprise Congo and Nat King Cole performances by Maurice, or the sax. Maybe the sax.
From Casanova to the Sly, Sick & Wicked’s baby “Suit and Tie” to every song The Sax Man plays outside of Cleveland venues…I was moved. And the crowd wasn’t black or white, it was Cleveland. 
And we drank together. And we joked together. Clapped when asked, swayed without being asked. 
And we celebrated indeed when Maurice was awarded a day and a law letting music reign his honor. I almost cried thinking about him complaining about getting arrested for doing what he loves.
Art deserves to be free like that. Not just for him.
Not just for me.
For all of us.

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