In every issue of The Syncopated Times, I mean to celebrate the life force; syncopation itself is the pulse of life. The beat of one’s heart is analogous to the beat of ragtime and jazz. It’s not a dirge. There can no music, as such, without vitality. The tempo dictated by our inner metronome may persist for a century or more and while we are largely unconscious of its throbbing we move to its rhythm. We favor that music which roughly synchronizes with it.
This month the issue is dedicated to reveling in the long and productive “Ragtime Life” of Max Morath; last month I spotlighted four performers energizing the world of jazz with their youth and enthusiasm. Whatever our fleeting distractions, music is the pacemaker that compels us to be positive. That doesn’t mean that we are oblivious to dire occurrence. I noted the sad condition of the world in my September column, and disasters have transpired between its writing and today. New Orleans, the epicenter of early jazz, took a direct hit from Hurricane Ida, and the historic Karnofsky Tailor Shop, which had been young Louis Armstrong’s second home, was leveled.
Having a positive attitude does not preclude mourning the loss of that which is irreplaceable. Rather, it should provide us an emotional ballast that enables us to bounce back and face our problems with resourcefulness, and repair that which can be mended. I concede
