It was, what – 2 hours ago. I was doin’ stuff: on the phone, working on a POS windows laptop 10 years past its prime, and working a site and jazz was playing in the room. All over the room. I’m in my office. Back door wide open so I can see all sorts of what’s outside, on one side of our yard. Bigass window on my left is open, too. I’m in the middle, the point of the 90 degrees. Sorta. I’m basically outside and I love sitting here grooving and working, or whatever.
So the boy was outside mowing. Around me some just snappin’ rico-suave Jazz was playin’. It’s not loud. I like to hear the world, too. You know? So the vocalist is ba dip bap, snappity boop, bangarobishebang all over the place. The rhythm boys thumpin’. The whirr of the mower started to fade in and out. I just caught it, you know – noticed it. She’s banging all around the room and then the mower was part of the tune. Whirring in time with the rhythm guys and her snappity bop scat.
Hot damn that was awesome. I’m still thinking about it 2 hours later. Another whippity-boo lady is crooning and I think I’ve changed my mind about this DJ’s show. I was thinking it had too many strings and too much swing stuff for me. Then the ladies and the mower happened and the ladies just kept coming. Man.
And there it is. Not only is Music the universal language but lawn mowers know it, too.