Monday, November 25, 2013

Father John D'Amico

I took for granted that my best friends' father was a jazz pianist.

I guess because I never saw him on tv, or heard him on the radio, I didn't take him seriously. Probably how people see me as a "photographer"; good, but not "real". Despite the piano I saw in the house over and over in my visits, I never believed until I saw him play with his band one night.

Why do we take things for granted?

Mr. D'Amico passed away a few weeks ago. This made me sad not only because someone close to me lost their father, and that my mother was very sick at the same time and I was worried she would be next, but because I didn't pay attention while he was here.

I remember when we talked about Brazilian samba fusion for a long, long time outside of Rite Aid. I was playing him an album I had and he was breaking down the music, the sounds, rhythms, in a way only a musician could.

That will be the best, most fun memory that I have: Talking to him about something he loved. Jazz.

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