Brought to you by a degree of separation..

Many neighborhoods have them,I suppose.
Those curiously bedraggled folks that you notice,from time to time,wandering the streets in solitary fashion.
You probably don't know them in the sense that they are 'friends',but they have established themselves as being harmlessly familiar enough,so that you might sometimes wave,and exchange the occasional nod of recognition.

One such character was known to us teenagers that routinely hung out in our garage on Spreckles Lane,in Redondo Beach,California.
We didn't spend a whole lot of time speculating about him,but it was clear to all of us that he was a junkie.
Lets just say that my older brother had been addicted to heroin long enough for me to recognize the symptoms.

There was a day when,while fussing about the front yard with my mom,she noticed him across the street and casually remarked,..'That's Chet Baker'.

'You know him??'

'He used to be a famous trumpet player'..



'But not for me'

Chet was,in fact, a bona fide Jazz icon.
His melancholy brass delivery and smoldering voice made him,along with Charlie 'Bird' Parker with whom he often toured, stars of the emerging 'Be-Bop' genre of the 1950's.
He became best associated with his signature song,'My Funny Valentine'.

He made a brief comeback attempt in the 80's,but drug addiction is a faithless friend.
Chet died in 1988,having fallen from a hotel window in Amsterdam while under the influence of heroin,and cocaine.

I just figured,given our tenuous connection,that I'd tender some recognition to him here,in Sling's Domain.