Nothing ever goes wrong on cold July Friday evenings with a fine cup of home brewed coffee or a 20 year old Cabernet Sauvignon, some good ol' Jazz and a well compelling book. I often harbor a distasteful feeling when the weekend comes to a close.. A ominous, daunting day, is on the offing. We all hate Mondays with valor, with it's glaring drag and weekend hangovers, bustling traffic, unmet deadlines... So much, with so little focus. But one thing, when Monday comes to an end, you could almost swear, we all Sign with relieve. People are different, some hate Sundays with passion, but to the few that hold it dear, where they find grace and a fine-tuned setting; cheers to you. I am a dreamer, the old-hat bloke who would listen to classical tunes, or a jazzy piece by Mark Maxwell or even Kenny G and feel great!. There is something about the haunting cords struck with a apt and masterful precision and skill, that creates room for creativity, a little bit of craziness, wanderi
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