[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Astonishing Stories, June 1942.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
I'm playing trombone in a little five-piece combo at Benny's Bar and
Grill when it happens. At the time we are slightly enlarged by the
presence of four of Bill Gundry's boys who are working out at the park
and have dropped by to sit in after they have finished, and also we
have present Eddie Smith and Mart Allen, who are a clarinet and trumpet
from The Pines.
Benny's is the local hangout for all the musicians in town, which is
the main reason I'm playing there; one night Whiteman himself shows,
when his band is working a theatre job at the Palace.
During the early part of the night we play our own arrangements off the
paper, but after about one o'clock we are liable to be jamming with
any of the boys who can find seats--like this night I'm telling you
about.
When I first notice it we are giving out on the _Jazz Me Blues_, which
is a fine ensemble number, and we are hitting it in a fast Dixieland.
I'm ragging the beat and I can feel the old slush pump tremble, but
I figure it's because I'm really solid at the moment and I keep on
sending.
Well, we clean up the _Jazz Me's_ and I'm still hot so I hit right on
the B-natural for _Stardust_, with the boys jumping in, and we take it
slow and mellow through one chorus together. Then I stand up for a solo
on the second, and that is when it happens.
I don't know exactly what takes place, but I'm riding as I reach out
for a high one that's really out of the world. I feel the pump tremble
again, and then what happens is that I am really out of the world.