to simplify     notes from the open road

Monday, May 18, 2015


It has been said that a personalized version of Hell awaits each of us in the afterlife, and for a long time I joked that mine would involve eternity in an elevator with Kenny G. Then I had the chance to meet Kenny several years ago and found him to be a really nice guy, so my Hell changed to eternity in an elevator with Kenny G's records looping in the background. Nice guy, sure, but that doesn't change the fact that he'd be hard pressed to play his way out of a thoroughly wet paper bag.

Door to Hell?
So imagine my surprise when I stepped into the hotel's elevator in Toowoomba yesterday and was greeted by that sniveling soprano sound. Of course, depending on how you feel about the soprano saxophone, "sniveling soprano sound" might be redundant, and I'm not sure I'd disagree with you. Anyway, a few more trips down to the lobby and back over the course of the afternoon confirmed that several of Kenny's tracks were looping without end. I had either died and gone to Hell, or stumbled upon a stark and cautionary warning to clean up my act before it's too late.

Heathen that I am, I opted to take the stairs for the remainder of my stay.