What is it about creativity that keeps some folks active long after the factory workers have set aside their tools.  Perhaps it’s that simple urge to make something that keeps tugging them back.  Telling them to keep busy and stay alive.  Stanley Chappell has a profile chiseled with age.  A face Charles Dickens might have dreamed up.  Ebenezer Scrooge on the day after.  For most of last century, he hunched over musical podiums in Seattle, Washington, pouncing on notes like a bird of prey.