The last skeleton I ran into was Freddie at an Albuquerque Starbucks, on Halloween.

Before that, I shared a sidewalk bench with a man of bones in Tulum, Mexico.

There were glorious skeletons painted on a wall in Cuenca, Ecuador overlooking the Rio Tomebamba.

Today, outside the Kaktus Brewing Company in Bernalillo, New Mexico, another set of bones greets me. 

Glenn Kostur, who runs the Jazz Studies Department at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, solos behind the curtain.

I wouldn’t swear to it but I this skeletons right toe is keeping perfect time.

Good blues can bring back the dead, after making us feel that way first.

 

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