Last night was the last Zaal 100 Jazzcafe of the season, and with funding situations the way they are, who knows how many more seasons there'll be. So we overdid it, but only a little.
Above: Cafe Nassau, our across-the-street default meeting place. Below: beer, smokes, Noops, and getting paid; Peter Evans, Vatcher, Tyshawn Sorey, Han; the canal across the street; coming back to the party; the party.
This is an occasionally NSFW, mostly gluten-free kitchen notebook that also occasionally threatens to turn into something else and fails, thus remaining its same old cryptic and superficial self. These posts begin to fail to explain (start at the bottom).