Waldo, typing furiously in his bath, looked up this morning as I passed to brush my teeth. “WML put up some jazz for you,” he commented. “Real hepcat, that one, I think that’s what the kids call it. Since Laura ran off with that detective, I hardly know what the young people are thinking. Thank goodness,” he added, “YOU keep videos of the traditional jazz festival in Port Angeles on your blog.” Then he returned to his column on Chinese porcelain.
Bit of a stick, that Waldo, sometimes.
It’s 9:16. Does Waldo know where his groove is?
Well, as you know from seeing him in “Laura”, Waldo has good days and bad when it comes to pop culture, but I suspect he’s fonder of Artie Shaw than he’d admit in his column.
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Ride like a knight.
Write like a warrior.
The Cello Francesca or Balderdash by Tom Blackburn
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