'Ladies and gentlemen, but especially the ladies, and even more especially, the tea ladies.....I'm the kind of cat that jives to his own beat. You dig? I like to take my axe and blow whenever and wherever I feel the beat.

Pheep! Parrrrp! Pheep-Parp-Pheeeep!

So, the other day, I was out with my horn, digging the scene at the ground, blowing a few notes, when I noticed something. Something that knocked the wind out of this old hep cat.

The sight screen, man. It didn't look good. Fact is, that old screen was shot. It was gone man, solid gone.

Pheep! Paaaaarrrrppp! Peep-phaaarp! Beeeeeep Baaarp Beeep! Be-bap! Ba-bap!

I'm not a practical man, ladies and gentlemen....but mainly the ladies. These hands were made for working my saxophone. I couldn't help the sight-screen in its hour of need, 'cept to raise a Jazzmergency Call.

Boppity-boppity-bop-bop! Bi-bop! Bi-bop Bi-bop! Bopppppppppp!!

You ever seen a miracle? Let me ask you again, because I didn't hear you? You ever seen a miracle?

I've seen a miracle.

Two men came out of nowhere, that is to say, from the direction of Swaffham, answering my Jazzmergency Call. They were riding in a black truck carrying fresh timber and white paint. Heading for that old sight-screen.

Pheeeeeeeeeeeep! Phaaaaaarp! Pheeeeep-Phaaaaarppppp!

Two whole days they worked on that screen. Taking out the old wood, putting in the new. Painting it white, till it gleamed like Hollywood teeth.

Beep-Barp! Beep-barp! Be-Barrrp!

Two days they laboured until that sight screen was born again! Like a phoenix from the flames or that tv show 'Birds of a Feather'.

There's only way to say thank you to those folk, name of Bert and Crispy, who gave that screen a second chance. With some good old jazz-riff extemporising.

I call this one 'Out of Sight, Screen!' and it goes a little something like this....one, two, one two three four!....

Beep! Baaaarp! Beeep Baarp! Phheeeeeep! Barp! Ba-baba-baaarp!

(Continues for twenty-eight minutes)