All That Jazz

[susurrus]

(If anybody else wants to join, please PM me.)


I wasn't the regular guy. The regular guy was a sax player named Rick. Rick was known as a loudmouth, a bigot and a hothead, and had shot that big mouth of his off one too many times. He'd gotten his ass whipped by some little guy he'd said the wrong thing to, a guy who just happened to be the all-city lightweight boxing champ or some such. So, Rick was home nursing his pride, a split lip, a couple loose teeth, as well as a broken finger he'd received when he decided to fight back and only contacted a brick wall.

I learned all this from Steve, the bass player, the guy who'd hired me for the gig. I'd played with him and all the guys, including Rick, at various times, in other settings, so I had a vague idea of the tunes they knew. It was a majorly eclectic mix, so it'd be an evening of just about every style of jazz possible.

The piano man, Mandy (I never knew what that was a nickname for), fancied himself something of a young Brubeck, right down to the horn rimmed glasses. He didn't need them to see, they didn't even have lenes, he just thought they made him look cool.

At the drums was, remarkably enough, a girl (okay, a woman, but as the youngest member of the band (late 20's) everybody thought of her as a girl). Women in jazz are, and always have been, a rarity. Singing and piano playing are historically where the fairer sex have been relegated.

Anyway, the drummer was known as "T." I don't know if she had any other name, I'd never heard it if she did. Nevertheless, everybody I knew wanted to play with her. Music, that is. Not necessarily because she was cute (she was), but because she knew every damn style, could play like anybody who'd come before (Rich, Morello, Roach, Gadd, didn't matter), and she had time like a fucking atomic clock. No matter what, you always could count on her to keep shit together.

The club was one of only a couple places in town that even had live jazz. Every place else had sold out to the rock and country crowd. I held no personal grudges, I mean, a guy has to make a living somehow, and I knew the majority of my generation and younger was listening to guitar music, not horns.

So, I showed up, trumpet in hand, ready to show 'em what I could do. I knew folks would wonder what happened to Rick, but I figured I could show them they didn't need him.

Just before we started, Steve leaned into his mike and introduced me, then asked, "So, Alex, as the 'new guy,' what do you want to start with?"

I turned and told him, "Bye Bye Blackbird," gave the key and counted it off.

 

[dreamwvr1290]

Rene'

Kind of a crappy spring evening. It is still getting dark early. Tonight a steady drizzle falls through the air. But I am not going to be bothered by it.

What an incredible long week at work. Fashion design is a cutthroat business at it’s best. This week it was at it’s worst. We are getting things ready for a fall show in Paris in a few months. Everything is going wrong. Shipments of fabric lost, lining up models, invitations, and parties to be planned. I know it will all fall into place at the last minute, but things are nuts right now. Tonight I have planned a special evening, all to myself, enjoying what I like to do. Not worrying about anyone or anything else.

I find myself walking in the drizzle to a small jazz club downtown. I have an absolute passion for jazz music. I am going to hear one of the regular groups that play around this area. They are very good.

I open the door to the club. Pretty crowded. But then it usually is on a Friday night. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I find a small table to sit at. Taking off my coat I get settled in. A great view of the band, and also of the room. I love to watch people. I see Matt behind the bar as usual. He makes a mean Tom Collins, and doesn’t take any crap from anyone. I think he has a Louisville slugger behind the bar, but thankfully I’ve never seen him use it.

Tina, the waitress comes over and takes my order for of course, a Tom Collins. She’s such a small slip of a woman. A single mother of two. Can’t be easy making ends meet working in a place like this.

As she walks away I look at the band warming up. The first thing I notice is that Rick isn’t here. Good thing. He is such a prick. He just gives me the creeps. He has tried to hit on me a few times when the band was between sets. Yuck. The first time he talked to me he said “Are both your parents retarded?, because you’re really special.” Give me a break! Wonder what has happened to him? Maybe he’s sleeping with the fishes, one can hope can’t she? I hope the replacement trumpet player is good.

Tina brings me my drink just as the band begins to play. Oh, one of my favorites, “Bye Bye Blackbird”.

 

[susurrus]

It took us a few bars, but after a short while, we were all getting it together. It took me a little bit to get used to the rhythm section, and they all had to get used to me. Remember, I said I'd played with these guys before: I never said it was all of them at the same time.

In a very short amount of time, we were all swinging and having a hell of a good time. Smiles went all around the bandstand. If this was how the night was going to go, it'd be a real joy.

I finished with the head and launched right into a nice, cool solo, and everything was feeling great. After the second chorus, I knocked off and Mandy took it up.

While I stood and dug the great sounds coming from the piano, I sort of gave a glance around the room.

There were the typical club types, you know, the ones that could fit in anywhere and just sort of disappear into the background, but there were exceptions. One was a tall white guy with a bald head and an earring. Not the type you'd expect at a jazz club. There were a few older folks there: more and more the hair color you'd see at jazz gigs was gray-white. A few good looking ladies were scattered here and there, but they all with dates.

Just before I was ready to put the horn back up to my face, the door opened, and in walked this brunette. As I picked up the head of the tune again, I watched her look around and find a table, not too far from the bandstand, but not right next to it either. She gave a once-over to the band, then the waitress came over, and I realized I needed to concentrate on the music.

We finished the tune to healthy applause (in a small club, the idea of thunderous applause is simply ludicrous). I grinned and bowed slightly, realizing that any doubts that may have been in folks' heads about Rick's sub were now dashed.

Mandy half-stood from the piano and said, just loud enough for us on the stand to hear, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Ice Maiden has arrived."

 

[dreamwvr1290]

Rene'

The drink was good. The music was even better. The new horn player was great. This is what I love, being alone, drink in hand, and live jazz music. My mind drifting with the notes. I don’t have to think about anyone or anything.

The notes of the first song float and fade into the smoky air. I see Mandy rise a little off of the piano bench and look quickly in my direction, as he says something to the band.

I know what they call me – the “Ice Maiden”. At different times some of the guys in the band have tried to “get to know me a little better”. Rick was just the most repulsive one. I have to deal with a million different personalities every day at work. When I’m out , I like to be by myself and just watch the world go by. I’m not looking to be picked up. Especially by a musician. They have their own little following anyway. The girls that hang on are a different bunch. They look a little rough around the edges. So if the guys want to get laid, I am sure one of those girls will oblige them.

I’ve had my share of lovers. But have been on my own for a while. It’s the stress at work. I am a woman of the new millennium; I don’t need a man to be fulfilled. Some guys just don’t get it.

Slowly slipping my drink, watching the different people around me, I hear the band starting another song……….

 

[susurrus]

Steve turned to the piano and hissed, "Shut up. There are live mikes up here."

Mandy, sitting back down, said, "I'm shuttin'. What now?"

Steve turned back to me. "Well, any other ideas?"

I thought a minute. "Any restrictions?"

Steve shot back, "Anything. Time's a-wastin'."

"Night in Tunisia."

We launched into one of Dizzy Gillespie's standards, a complete change from the easy swing of the first tune. Fortunately, the rhythm section didn't go for the later chaotic beginning for the thing, but for the more straightforward earlier version.

I didn't know why I called this one. Generally, bebop gives me fits. Tonight though, I was on, thank god.

I let the piano take the first solo this time, even though Diz would always rip into the first chorus. I ain't Diz. By anybody's definition of the word. Besides, Mandy was a great player, he was a joy to listen to.

Meanwhile, I kept a quiet eye on the brunette who'd come in earlier. The one who'd been called the Ice Maiden. She was a good looking lady, wearing a tight, but not overly-provocative short, blue dress. She was attentive to the band, but I got the impression she was there, but somewhere else. She appeared lost in her own thoughts.

There was almost an "Oh shit" moment when the piano finished up, and I damn near missed my entrance. I fumbled the first few notes, not the greatest way to start a solo, but Diz and Bird fluffed a few themselves, and I managed to redeem myself after that.

 

[dreamwvr1290]

Rene'

These guys were good. The trumpet player seems to be fitting right in. A good pick, “A night in Tunisia”. My Dad got to see Dizzy in a jazz club once. That’s were I get my love of jazz, from my Dad. I still have a turntable and a ton of albums. I just like listening to the vinyl when I’m home cooking after work. Haven’t bought a CD player yet. Maybe I’m just a hold out. I have an old soul. Sometimes I think I was born 100 years too late.

The trumpet player really gets in to his music. He’s not bad looking. Tall and his hair is long. I like that. I watch him as the band goes through a few more songs.

The place is getting more crowded. Tina is running her buns off, and Matt is opening bottle after bottle of beer. Guess I’ll make her run a little bit more. I raise my hand and point to my glass. She gives me a nod.

 

[susurrus]

"Tunisia" finished with no further flubs, and we launched into the next tune, then the next.

While I waited for my turn to play, I paid as much attention as I could to what was going on on the stand, but I found myself looking out into the house more than once. Of course, my gaze landed on "Icy," she being the only attractive, unaccompanied woman in the place, aside from the waitress, and she was busting ass trying to keep up with the swelling crowd.

As the tunes wound on, Icy paid more and more attention to what was happening onstage. I mean, the glaze I'd noticed earlier appeared to be gone. She looked to be enjoying what we were doing, and seemed to be watching me a little more than anybody else. Once or twice, our eyes briefly met, but one or the other of us would quickly look away, evidently not wanting the other to know we were looking.

Soon, the end of the first set was upon us (fortunately, this gig gave us ten at the top of the hour), and I was again being asked what I wanted to play.

We'd run the gamut of styles, we'd even managed a Dixie tune in the process. I thought for a bit for something we hadn't done yet. Then it occurred to me: We hadn't slowed things down. It was sort of an odd one to end a set on, but I called, "My Funny Valentine."

I saw a little twist of the mouth out of T, apparently she didn't care for ballads, but she didn't say anything. I figured, if it was good enough for Chet Baker and Miles Davis, it's good enough for me. Also, it'd give this crowd another aspect of what I could do.

 

[dreamwvr1290]

Rene'

The band really seems to be getting it together. T is so very good on the drums. A least these guys do seem to respect her. I don’t suppose she’d take any crap.

This place is really getting busy. Good thing I got here early. I see the other waitress finally showed up. Oh, great….there’s Jim. Maybe if I don’t make eye contact he won’t see me. Yeah, right. I see him making his way to my table. Jim is one of salesmen from the fashion firm I work for. He’s one of the most annoying people I have ever met. He’s married and has 3 or 4 kids, I can’t remember how many. He is a skirt chaser. All the women try and hide from him.

“Jim, how nice to see you.” He kisses me on each cheek. “I’d ask you to sit, but there are no more stools.” “That’s ok”. Jim says, “I’ll stand.” Great.

“The band sounds pretty good tonight. Is that a new horn player? Looks like a looser.” Yeah looser is right, but he’s not playing the horn, he’s right here beside me. So, the man never shuts up. Blah, Blah, Blah. Is this turning out to be a crappy night or what? Just as the band finishes the set, I hear a beeping. Jim’s pager. He takes it out of his pocket and inspects the number on the display with great concentration. “Oh, Rene’ I have to go. A big client has just come into town, and I have to pick him up at the airport. I’ll catch you around the office.” “I’m sorry you have to leave so soon. I’ll see you later.” I tell him. Jim turns and makes his way through the crowd to the door. There is a God, I think to myself.

The band mambers are leaving the stage. I hope the break isn't a long one. It's easier to get lost when the music is playing.

 

[susurrus]

"Valentine" felt good. I managed to pour as much feeling into it as I could, before turning it over to the piano. Mandy somehow made that old keyboard cry. Even though it's a long chorus, I nodded at him to take another. At his glance to Steve, I saw *he* was bored witless (not all musicians I know are fond of "Funny Valentine"), but he gave Mandy the go-ahead for another chorus.

Meanwhile, I scanned the crowd again. Once more, my gaze came to rest on "Ice Maiden." There was some greasy looking little guy standing next to her table, and it looked like she was *this close* to punching the guy out. He wouldn't shut up! The whole time I watched, the idiot's mouth never stopped moving.

My turn to take the tune out rolled back around, and I kept my eye on Icy and her apparently unwanted companion. About halfway through that last chorus, I saw "Chatty Charlie" reach to his side for a pager, then scurry off. Icy's relief was visible.

The applause for "Valentine" was a little stronger than it had been previously. It was very rewarding. Even though the musicians often aren't enamored of a tune, a lot of the time, the crowd just eats it up. And sometimes, the more the musicians dislike a song, the more the audience loves it.

We all left the stand after Steve made an announcement to the effect that we'd be back after a short break.

Steve asked if I wanted a drink, he was buying. I told him what I wanted, thanked him, and he disappeared into the crowd.

The other guys obviously knew folks at the club, after all, they'd been here twice a month for a couple months now. Nevertheless, they didn't abandon me to stand around looking like a lost soul. I was grateful for that.

I thought I'd inquire as to what Mandy'd said earlier, "So, tell me, what's with the 'Ice Maiden' bit?"

Mandy and T both rolled their eyes before Mandy spoke up. "That woman, she's here every night we're playing. We've all tried picking her up at various times," T acknowledged that fact, something I didn't know about her, but it was an intriguing piece of information.

"Of course, Mister Fucking Smooth Rick came up to her one night and asked if she was retarded or something. He thought it was a great line. I'm surprised he didn't get his teeth knocked out long before now."

T decided to continue, "Her game is: act like she's interested, flirt all damn night, then when it comes time to go home, suddenly she doesn't know you exist."

Steve then returned with the drinks. "What's happening?"

Mandy explained, "We're filling Lex here in on 'The Ice Maiden.'"

Steve rolled his eyes like the other two had done, then said, "Oh, her." He turned to me, "If you insist, you're welcome to try, but don't expect any company going home tonight."

I felt intrepid. I was playing well, so my ego was boosted a little. "Does she have a real name?"

T said into her drink, as she turned away and headed someplace else, "Rene, Randi, Rae, something."

Steve glanced at his watch. "If you're determined to get your emotional balls kicked, go right ahead. You've got four minutes."

 

[dreamwvr1290]

Rene'

I wave to Tina again. I think I’ll have just one more drink before heading home. It has been a long week. Maybe a hot bath, some candles, and a bit of jazz on the stereo. It would also be nice to get out of this dress and heels.

I see Steve make his way through the crowd and head to the bar. He shakes a lot of hands. I guess there is networking no matter what profession you are in.

Sitting at the next table is a young couple. They are into each other. Holding hands, staring into the others eyes. Giggles and kisses. No wedding rings, must just be a date. Give me a break. In about 4 years he’ll be sleeping with every floozy that comes along, and she will of gained 200 pounds after spitting out 4 kids. Cynical? Yeah. I really don’t think there is any such thing as true love. It is hard enough to know the real you, the person that lurks behind the shadows. Now how can one expect to share and know another person completely? Self-preservation. Survival of the fittest is the motto for this woman.

Taking my eyes off the couple I see the horn player breaking off from the group. He has very graceful movements. Oh, he’s turning this way. Hopefully he’s not coming over here.

 

[susurrus]

On my way to Rene, Randi, Rae - Ice Maiden's table, I saw her look in my direction. Our eyes met momentarily. I smiled, nodded, then chickened out. The challenge in her eyes was intimidating, and I wasn't really one for out-of-the-blue talking to strange women. I hoped the next set would bolster my courage, if she didn't decide to go home.

I glanced back to the bandstand, and Steve held up two fingers. Still looking at Icy, I shrugged and motioned to the stand, then backed my way back to my horn, keeping my eyes on her most of the way.

Steve knew I hadn't talked to her. When I got back up to join the band, he said, "Didn't think you'd have balls enough. Let's get going." He spoke to the rest of the guys, "'A' Train." And we were off.