Jammin'

Last night I went to the coffeehouse at which I've been playing (after a fashion) music for the last few years.  This is not a grandiose thing.  It's a church basement.  Two bucks at the door, open mic, lots of folks bring a tray.  But joy is where you find it.

The ringleader of this musical congeries, a gentleman named Rich, who plays marvelous guitar, sent an email a week ago to a horn player named Russ and me with the chords to that exegesis of 20th Century smooth rock, the Atlanta Rhythm S...