Blues Harp

Sometimes I like to say I play the blues harmonica—
even though I don’t know how—just because it’s such
a beuatiful thing to play. I’ve always thought so, ever since

I started listening to blues and I fell in love with
that sound. Like the time my husband and I went to see
Charlie Musselwhite at the Aladdin Theater, or that time

at the Waterfront. James Cotton. So old and frail he could barely
walk or talk. But oh, the shouting of that harp. I love hearing music
outdoors in summer, or indoors in a crowded theater when I get

jazzed from the crowd even if the music’s not that great. I don’t
even mind the smell of beer and dope. Music is a kind of promise
and good music takes you somewhere you’ve never been.

So today I’m going to the music store to browse books on
learning harmonica. Maybe I’ll buy one. Maybe not. I’ve heard
to really play blues harp, you have to blow your whole

soul into it. Right now all over the world, thousands of people
are breathing in, ready to blow into a harmonica. Ready
to start. Every one of those breaths could be mine.

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