How could I possibly claim to be an authentic New Orleans jazzman? I was a white, middle-class boy who went to an elite college in the North, spent more than half his adult life in France and never even made his living as a fulkime musician. [...] most of the musicians I play with these days are legitimate inheritors of the mens. With a poke of his index finger, he adjusts his dear-rimmed glasses and starts pulling out his ratty spiral notebooks filled with hand-written sheet music - songs learned, played and sung over his eight decades as a musician.
A JAZZ LIFE: 2 STORIES Tom Sancton New Orleans Magazine; Apr 2010; 44, 7; Docstoc pg. 66 Reproduced with perm
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