Skip to content

What I’ll Do On My Summer Vacation

The solstice may be days away, but with temperatures in the 90s this week, no one in northeast Ohio can deny the early arrival of summer. Man, it’s hard to get anything done when it’s this hot, but that’s not why today’s usual feature post is taking a break. Bigger things are happening in let’s call this land. We’re moving.

Our actual moving date is still a month away, but in the meantime, the house that will become lct HQ is undergoing some fairly extensive renovations. I’ve been spending a lot of time there, as well as packing 11,000 CDs, 2,000 cassettes and however many LPs survived last year’s flood, among other ephemera. And because there’s no WiFi at the new house, it’s not a great place to work–yet.

Now the week of Tri-C JazzFest is a horrible time to step back, but the festival has received great coverage from the wonderfully readable Malcolm Abram at the P-D, from Cleveland Scene, from the folks at Cool Cleveland (I’m reading that in the imperative voice today) and from the deep divers at Cleveland Classical (it’s not all classical, y’all!), as well as coverage on JazzNEO, which, I assume, you have on in the background while you’re reading this, right?

let’s call this isn’t going away, though. I’ll try to stay after the Thursday Countdown posts, which is a lot less labor intensive than the reported features on Tuesdays are, mainly because Jim Szabo’s weekly Northeast Ohio jazz calendar, essentially functions as my research department (thanks, Jim!).

If a great story falls into my lap, hey, I might push it out, and you might see the revival of the Roll Call roundup of recordings. And I have some projects for All About Jazz that have lingered on the spreadsheet for too long. I need to get those done.

So sit tight. Things are moving along here. And who knows? I might even see you at a show.

NOTE: This article was written by a real human being. No artificial intelligence or generative language models were used in its creation.

Red beans and ricely yours,