My downstairs neighbor, who must detest me for the regularity with which I drop things on the floor, is a trumpet player. Most days he’s practicing scales, or most annoyingly, for a week, a tricky high note. I think it’s a fair exchange. After all, I’m a real klutz, and I drop a lot of stuff. Plus, the cats play and knock stuff over too. Sundays afternoons, though, he plays jazz standards. I don’t know why, but he does. It fits today, a gloriously sunny, almost warm day. I have a window cracked, and I’m looking at couple more houses this afternoon (I’m officially house hunting). I’m still fascinated by Monica Zetterlund. So, here’s some more of her with the Bill Evans Trio.