Although the Large Hadron Collider is broken until at least next year, I keep it tucked in a back corner of my head wondering what will happen to reality when they fire that hula hoop up again. Especially since if they don't punch the solar system's ticket with strangelets, monopoles or black holes, they plan on opening up other dimensions. Infinite worlds of possibility.
If they pull it off, all we probably get is a roll of the dice. Then again, since quantum physics says that the observer influences the experiment - and we are all observers of reality - perhaps we can nudge it towards a better world.
So in addition to world peace, caritas, respect and provision for all, there's one reality we almost realized and got cheated out of. I'd like to give that one a shot.
Listening to Charlie Parker's The Complete Verve Master Takes (Leap Frog is killer) and Moondog's "Bird's Lament" - his tribute piece to Parker - I'm reminded that these two sax giants not only had a huge respect for each other's music, but they actually knew each other - they were friends. At one time while Moondog was living in New York, Parker had suggested that they record together.
On the other side of that coin is the apparent fact, according to Parker's widow, that he followed Edgard Varese through the streets of New York for two years before working up the nerve to speak to him. Finally he appeared on Varese's doorstep and asked to be taken on as his pupil. Varese agreed, but first was off to Europe. Interviewed by Paul Desmond in 1954 Parker said, "I had the pleasure to meet one Edgar Varese in New York City. He's a classical composer from Europe. He's a Frenchman, very nice fellow and he wants to teach me. In fact he wants to write for me because he thinks I'm more for ... more or less on a serious basis you know, and if he takes me over ... I mean after he's finished with me I might have the chance to go to the Academy of Musicalle out in Paris itself and study, you know. My prime interest still is learning to play music, you know."
Moondog and Varese also met, although there's little said about it. The street music genius and the father of electronic music coming face to face might certainly have been less than effusive. Parker was the catalyst. If either of these collaborations had taken place it would have been awesome... but what if, through the common denominator of Parker, all three had worked together? I've got a pretty good imagination and a head full of six decades of music addiction, and I can't imagine it.
Before any of this could happen, Parker died in a suite at the Stanhope Hotel on March 12, 1955 while watching Tommy Dorsey on tv. His passing was accompanied by a loud clap of thunder.
It seemed destined, yet it never happened. Strange really. So close you can almost hear it.
So next year, if you notice your surroundings start to shimmer and bend, give all this a thought, and you might get to hear some incredible music just before all the lights go out ;)
