• The publication of Arya Jenkins’ “FOOLISH LOVE” is the eleventh in a series of short stories she has been commissioned to write for Jerry Jazz Musician.

     

  • You bring out the jazz in me
    The art blakey, max roach the roy haynes in me
    Seeing you  shake your hips like
    Congas…the way you move your hips to a mamba

     

  • In this edition, Paul features samples of Alex Steinweiss album covers, created during the early 1940’s, at the beginning of his career

     

     

  • Them knees,
    full of bees again,
     
    two gates
    flapping in a stuttering breeze,
  • “Foolish Love” — a short story by Arya Jenkins
  • "You Bring Out the Jazz in Me” — a poem by Erren Kelly
  • Cover Stories, with Paul Morris; Vol. 21
  • "Diddley-Bop-She-Bop" -- a poem by Michael L. Newell
Literature » Short Fiction

“At Del Rey Rooms” — a short story by Tim J. Myers

            Years later he became a professor, a scholar—wrote a well-received book on epistemology.  But back then he was just a guy in love.

            They’d taken a cheap room in Venice for the summer, a run-down place a couple of blocks from Dockweiler Beach.  You could always smell the sea, its powerful mix of salt freshness and rot.  He’d never lived with a woman before; she’d had other boyfriends.  She was from back-county San Diego, told him she’d come to L.A. looking for a real life.  He’d just graduated from

[…] Continue reading »

Quiz Show » Jazz History Quiz

Jazz History Quiz #96

As a child, this vocalist — most famous as the “canary female” in the pioneering ensemble that revolutionized vocal music with the 1957 album Sing a Song of Basie — had an acting role in the Our Gang series.  Who is she?

 

June Christie

Chris Conner

Annie Ross

Julie London

Helen Morgan

Martha Raye

Jo Stafford

Go to the next page for the answer!

[…] Continue reading »

Literature » Short Fiction

Short Fiction Contest-winning story #44 — “Da Capo al Fine” by J. Lee Strickland

     I wake up when the door opens. Instant-awake, alert. I’m staring at the ceiling, at the ornate medallion in its center. Late-night city glow from the windows casts awkward shadows on the plaster. The light clicks on, and I hear a gasp. I feel a sympathetic shot of adrenaline hit my chest. I look toward the door, and there’s a woman there, a stranger. A beauty, too, dressed in a black pants-suit, purse slung over a shoulder, the jacket cut and fitted to her slim waist matador-style. Beneath the jacket, she’s wearing a white blouse with an enormous collar that flares out over her shoulders and breast, like gull wings. Her hair is loose, brown, shoulder-length, streaked with bits of blonde, her face around her dark eyes a mix of fear and puzzlement.

     “Who are you?” she says, her hand still on the light switch. “What are you doing here?” Her voice quivers.

     I look around. The ceiling looks like my

[…] Continue reading »