To: Wharf Rat who wrote (34754 ) 6/30/2004 9:07:03 PM From: Clappy Respond to of 104160 It seems like that when I watch jam bands, and when I'm jamming mice elf. Almost an out of body experience; I'm barely paying attention to what Radar is playing, (or, for that matter, what I am playing) and, yet, it blends perfectly (at least to us). Yeah, I hear ya. Sometimes on the morning after a long night of cheap beer and spicy foods, when just feeling sort of weak and tired, I surrender to the bad thoughts of exhaustion and cotton mouth. When I do I often slip into that gap where I feel in tune with the universe. Once I enter that happy place it is where I let my gas fly. An entire nights worth of stored-up bad air wishes to be released and I begin playing my rump trumpet. Man can I hit the high notes. Ones like Miles and Dizzy used to make. I get into this zone where, what ever music I hear inside my head, gets duplicated in my rear. What I think I like the most is I can sing in my best burly Satchmo voice while blaring with all the soul my wide caboose can muster. If the windows are open (as they usually are as soon as Wifie hears me begin tuning my instrument), I can often hear the birds outside begin to join in with that nature jam. Sometimes dogs begin to howl. That's when I know I'm really On! The heavens stop swirling and begin pulsing to the beat. The planets stop their rotation and turn that big head of their's to get a better look at the magic that is taking place. It lasts for hours sometimes. Especially if tapped beer was involved in the interbelly gas conversion process. I ride my swivel chair trombone throughout the house and really catch some speed when I scate across the hardwood floors. The sound really resonates as I blast trough the dining room. Freekin amazing. These wonders of the universe are created when the thought process allows the non-thought to come through and just flow. Can ya dig it? -TootersOneManBand