One of the tunes I loved to hear Barry Harris play live was Neal Hefti’s “Repetition”. As soon as I would hear Barry play the intro, a feeling of happiness would envelope me. There was something about that piece that brought me a sense of hopefulness and optimism. Perhaps I could hear the concept of repetition, doing something again and again—but skewed with a belief that repeating something just might be even more satisfying than the first or second or fortieth time. I’m not trying to be too deep about it, but that piece really resonated with me. Of course there are recordings, but nothing is the same as hearing him play in the moment. A feeling of joy emanated from him, always the same yet always different, and that is the nature of jazz. This was true no matter what country or venue he performed in. I miss that so much. My life right now does not include much live jazz, not much travel outside of my neighborhood, and not much of my musical …