The Prospect of Jam

There's a feeling welling up inside you. Or gathering, building like a wave, growing in power. It's a familiar, ancient surge, comfortable and welcome, though dangerous if diverted or ignored. There's an easy way to feed this urge: pick up that instrument and play, damn you.

London appears to be a cheap place for rehearsal space, and not at all sparse on the talent or desire. With a few likeminded individuals I might procure me a loud-noise-accepted-nay-encouraged chambers, and you're totally invited.

Aside from being nonlinguistic communication, which is to say communication with a few less barriers and that's a little more abstract, jamming has something primal attached to it, something not necessarily animal but certainly indigenous. It brings out something good in good people.

And speaking of good people in good settings, two Ottawaeans I have known
from two separate (800km distant) parts of my life-- one IgnorantCowboy and one ARMelhooshy, no less --managed to brush up against each other pleasantly and randomly... cheers to the surprising meetings that let a body know he must be on the right path.