“I mean, dance is  all right,  even street dance. It’s  the poetry of the body, flesh aspiring to grace, or  invite the spirit in to visit. But music.” He shook his big head side to side. “That’s different. That’s one level more subtle. I mean, if the universe is  vibration, and after Einstein who’s gonna deny it, energy sifts down to matter and before it gets there it manifests itself as sound. So playing music – playing music well,” he corrected himself, “it’s like taking an active part in the future… Jones? You with me here? Do I detect a glazed look about the eyes?”

“It’s a little obscurant for me,” Jones admitted amid rising veils of  steam. “You been reading the wrong  magazines.”

“Bears have a good head  for  metaphysics, Jones, but our feet never leave  the ground. I know  what I’m  talking about.”