A few weeks ago I came home to find jazz in my house.
A Rhodes was pumping out melodies through a full range of action, a sax painted the walls with sound, and drums laid down swishy brush rythmes.
People sat all around, some stood, people intermingled, and some even danced.
The bassist modestly worked out the undertones of the evening and, when they were all done, smiles for getting the chance to play.
What is a frisbee if it is not sailing through the air?