So they had the Jazz Festival in Cheraw, SC, birthplace of Jazz great Dizzie Gillespie, and here today, on Sunday, the horns have been put away, and the music has subsided for a while, perhaps until another jovial weekend of friends and food and fun.
This is possibly some of the artist's view leaving town southbound US 1/52, possibly heading to Greenville, Spartanburg, Charleston or somewhere around Columbia, back to their daily lives, where we can put on our masks and pretend to be normal people.
But during the Jazz Festival, are we normal? Is this the real "us", or is that work-a-day person that quietly goes through the motions the real "us"?
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