Those who can't do teach ... or not?

Nuit de feu: .amp's lungs are burning, he can barely breathe, YumYum's hair shakes hands with the flame of a candle nearby, there's the sound of rice paper cracking and the smell of chicken on the bbq, we play pool with great balls of fire, temperature as we go for tangents of discussion reaches 300 F. We discuss the morphology of Art. One of the world's first criminal profilers, Lombroso, studied the connection between facial features and predisposition to crime. We wonder about the many wonders of Art and Body, how does the former affect the latter? At Juilliard dancers take Anatomy classes, their chests and legs covered in different colors of tape, showing what muscles are streched and flexed according to the posture. Do Opera singers and horn players use the same sets of muscles? Mr. Seas, trombonist, injured a lateral abdominal while working out: does it hurt when he blows? Apparently not. I whish there was an Atlas of the Human musical body.

Mr. Seas on music critics: nobody, he says, nobody should ever review one single line of music, let alone write about musical theory, unless he's set foot on a bandstand and most importantly jammed all right. Is that right? On the phone with RR, former culinary critic of the city's leading newspaper, current editor in chief of the nation's leading food magazine, the door swings back: "It is a common opinion that in order to be a good culinary critic you have to be a knockout cook...". "Bullshit"

There.

I wonder who's right. Then I think of PS, jazz critic and historian, guardian of the flame, keeper of the gospel. As far as I know he never played a single note (am I wrong?) but no one could question his knowledge of the craft and the spellbounding quality of his anecdotes. Could this be it? He who has witnessed enough and absorbed by osmosis is the ultimate recipient of a Honorary degree in Musical Practice?

I'm working on it. And in the meantime, I keep my motto at heart. See below