1:8 - April In Paris

©2005, Rebel Phi Records, All Rights Reserved

My buddy who booked the trip for me warned me that when I get to the city, I'll feel differently about it and I'll forget all about the "spitting-on-Americans" myth and my dislike for their politics.

I had no idea what he meant till I got there.

Paris, France.

He was right. The energy. The vitality. The beauty.

The history. The art. The jazz. The love.

I've never felt so welcomed by a city before.

For the first time in my life, I didn't have to search for the things that I loved. They were all waiting for me.

I felt like I was a finally a part of something.

And to think I never wanted to go there in the first place.

When I returned from the trip, I came back to an empty home in a culture that, in relative terms, dismisses art, especially jazz.

If you can be enamored by something other than one specific person, then it was definitely the last time that I ever fell in love.