There Are Two Secrets To

Don't Do Nothing Halfway, Else You Find Yourself Dropping More Than Can Be Picked Up.

Not Too Slow, Not Too Fast. Kind Of Like Half-fast.

Every Time I Close My Eyes Blowing That Trumpet Of Mine, I Look Right Into The Heart Of Good Old New Orleans. It Has Given Me Something To Live For.

The Memory Of Things Gone Is Important To A Jazz Musician. Things Like Old Folks Singing In The Moonlight In The Back Yard On A Hot Night Or Something Said Long Ago.

Even If I Have Two Three Days Off, You Still Have To Blow That Horn. You Have To Keep Up Those Chops... I Have To Warm Up Everyday For At Least An Hour.