The first gig I dragged that young woman to, was the Salvation Army Band playing the Zoo Lake in '62.
We would've stormed the gates if they'd apartheid-ed this neck-of-the-grassy nod to the old colonial mother-land, Empire and that-sort-of-thing.
It was my first taste of brass, and broke my milk-teeth on it, it pulsated and glinted so hard.
I must've been four-or-five years old. The genre, and name of the band, 'Dang-a-Dang', shaped with hard consonants.
Later still, it shaped into Tijuana Brass and finally Loose Tubes, live at Ronnie Scotts, London, via Koh-i-Noor Jazz Bar's many exquisite lessons-and-treats (Blood, Sweat and Tears, Chicago, et al) on Kort Street, JHB
That first escort of mine, my Ma, would refresh my memory years after.
She lives still, through her fine musical spirit, and her unfettered spirit of freedom, afraid only of, as she would demure, "...no man, only God"
The Salvation Army Band plays, in j'annah, under Bibi Hejira's ferociously free eye and untethered ear