Wumbo Wednesday With Weaselo: Me and Satch and Dizzy

Now that I’ve moved in and been properly housewarmed (except I need to buy a couch and a TV stand… and more plugs for the aforementioned TV… and better lamps… and the AC.

Listen, I got the important stuff.

But anyway, new neighborhoods mean new exploring opportunities, as I’ve (extremely importantly) staked out the Korean chicken places within walking distance of the place (I think my favorite one is across the train overpass, because they have things smaller than a half chicken). Still gotta work on determining dumpling places, but I may need to take the bus to Flushing proper for my due diligence. Maybe over the holiday weekend, when I’m not going to Ikea.

Among those exploring opportunities are other parks and walkable things in the area, possibly with one Senorita Weaselo. Such as Flushing Cemetery, located in Flushing. Established in 1853, the cemetery currently holds the remains of some 41,000 people. I thought that among them was my great-grandmother, but she may be at another cemetery—Padre Weaselo isn’t as stalwart at remembering which one, and there’s other cemeteries in the area. My maternal grandparents, for instance, are buried at a cemetery about a mile away. People who are buried there include Adam Clayton Powell, Sr. (father of Adam Clayton Powell, Jr., the first African-American man to be elected to Congress from New York), Bernard Baruch (businessman and founder of Baruch College), and several jazz musicians—Johnny Hodges, who was Duke Ellington’s lead alto sax player; trumpeter Charlie Shavers; Hazel Scott, musician and activist;

and Louis Armstrong, buried with his wife, Lucille. Note the July 4th, 1900 birthday—it’s believed that he was actually born August 4th, 1901, but the July 4th date is the one that he always gave.

The Louis Armstrong House and Museum are still in Corona today. I played there as part of a summer jazz class with back in 2006. I remember it fondly because I broke my E string during “Sing, Sing, Sing” and played the rest of the song on 3 strings. Even to this day that part of the tailpiece (mostly decoration but also gives the strings some more height) is broken, as it never got repaired and my violin still has the same tailpiece 20 years later.

I didn’t add the picture of the gravestone, which says his name and “Satchmo” in larger letters above it, with a trumpet on top, because Senorita Weaselo and I were reflected in it. And none of you have met her yet. There were plenty of beads given, fitting for a man from New Orleans, and other trinkets as tokens of tribute. For us, the solitude, and talking about the house. It’s a very nice house from the bits I remember, and I definitely need to go back.

From there, we got a tip of another legend. Buried in an unmarked grave, next to his mother-in-law, towards one of the corners of the cemetery, is arguably the only trumpeter who can hold a candle to Pops, Dizzy Gillespie. Which is an excuse to post “A Night in Tunisia” again.

Senorita Weaselo is the archivist of her family. She has made memorials for forgotten graves, and one of her current pet projects is a blog about her grandfather who passed before she was born, a stage and television actor from the ’30s through ’60s. So, in looking more about the cemetery, we found our lead and our name—Lida Willis. His wife, Lorraine, who passed in 2004, is not buried there.

Using prior photos from the memorial site, we found an approximate area, using the building in the background of the pic. And then, we looked, until…

Here is the final resting place of Dizzy Gillespie, with his mother-in-law to his left. It is still unknown why his grave is unmarked and remains so to this day, but at the least it’s worth reminding the public that he’s still there.

Photos via Senorita Weaselo, since I again have about 100 MB leftover on my phone at any given time. Yes, I should get a new phone.

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In other news, sports, and fittingly for writing about jazz men, the Saints have gone marching out, because the EFL turned their win in the Championship promotion play-off into getting kicked out due to… SpygaUte! Wait, they’re actually just using “Spygate”? Come on, The Ohio State University BBC! American news may not have standards anymore but you still should!

But anyway, the punishment kicks them out of the promotion play-off final at Wembley against Hull City on Saturday, reinstating Middlesborough, who lost to Southampton in the semifinal. The winner of that game would join Coventry City and Ipswich Town in the Premier League next season, as Wolves, Burnley, and still technically either West Ham or Tottenham (though the Fightin’ Dean Thomases would need a win vs. Leeds and a Spurs loss vs. Everton, or a win by 12 or more goals provided they score 5 more than Spurs and a Spurs draw… that’s technically possible, right?) will go down.

Southampton will appeal. And quickly since, again, the game is Saturday.

In NFL news, we’re just going to play all games internationally at this point, probably, because fuck you. Okay, not yet. But there will be 10 international games.

Listen, if the 17th Game was a neutral including international site I’d be okay with it. But that’s not happening because, again, money. And, again, because fuck you, that’s why.

Onto sports. It’s a pair of Weastern Conference Finals!

The Hockey: “I love goooooooooooold!” vs. Vichy Nordiques (VGK vs. COL Game 1, 8:00, ESPN)

The Basketball: Charles Barkley’s River Walk Hatred vs. Vichy Sonics, which I guess would be like Metal Sonic? (SA vs. OKC, Spurs lead 1-0, 8:30, NBC)

Rooting for a 7-game series where every game goes to double overtime. Except for Game 7, which goes like 20 overtimes, rocks fall, everyone dies except it’s like George of the Jungle so they just get really big boo-boos. And the Knicks win in 4.

Note: We don’t wish death on anyone. For legal reasons. Not even someone who’s just popped into all of your collective heads. For legal reasons.