Two Jazzmaster Johns

It’s not that late, but I’m alone in the living room.  Devon’s retired to the Beach House, our little bungalow, exhausted after beers with Danish songwriters in Texas.  I wanted to send my friends a video of me playing a new number, but my friends are tough, and they’d never dig the currert state of this jank. Woe is he left to post rare pictures of John Lennon forwarded earlier by his wife who makes coffee before she goes to bed and also wakes him 30 minutes after she’s done yoga by smoothing his eyes.