I had to go early this morning to get my thyroid tested at Northeastern Hospital, which is now part of Temple’s health system. The nurse who took my blood was listening to Miles Davis. I looked at her and said, “Oh, thank God, real jazz.” Because I really hate smooth jazz. It makes my skin crawl. (Sorry if I offend anyone, but to each her own.) She laughed, said it was a Miles Davis iTunes station.
We commiserated a bit about how fragmented radio is these days, and then she told me the best-kept secret in jazz was the summer jazz series at Camden’s Wiggins Park, across the river. “It’s really nice, not that many people so it’s very relaxing,” she said. “I take my elderly aunt.”
She mentioned that a friend recommended Ortleib’s Jazz House in Northern Liberties, and I told her I used to go there all the time, but hadn’t been there in years. I came home and looked it up. Now it’s a plain old music venue, and another piece of local history goes with it.
