At The Jazz Club

The featured band was a very popular local group called "Night-Blooming Jazz Men" which never fails to amuse me.  Yes, ye of simple tastes...

The bands' many fans added to our usual population yesterday.  Many men were wearing burgundy-color knit shirts with "I Am A Night-blooming Jazz-maniac" writ large across the back.

Toward the end of their set, they announced their intent to play each of our military's "theme songs" to salute today's Veterans Day holiday.  If you had served with that group, stand up!  And they launched into "Anchors Away" and seven guys stood up, Richie among them.  Next it was "Wild Blue Yonder" but we apparently have only two Air Force alumni.  This all moved me to tears and I sat there daubing at wet cheeks with a Kleenex.  I always tear up at our national anthem and this was similar.  Otherwise, I never cry.

When the Marines' song began, a young guy, maybe 23 or 25, erupted from his chair and began doing a variation of an Irish step dance across the floor.  Since I cannot imagine a Marine jumping around like a leprechaun, I found his actions strange.   I doubt he's ever seen the inside of a Marine barracks because his shirt tail was hanging out over his cargo shorts, above his earth sandals.  Marines always tuck their shirts in and very precisely, too. 

Bernie was missing last month and when I asked, I was told "Hospice care at home."  Lou was there then as she was yesterday.  I saw her approach the band manager (?) - he's the guy who changes the signboard to reflect who is playing.  But she struck out with him.  

And then she did find a partner, a man we'd never seen before.  He was shaved head bald with a bushy goatee.  He seemed energetic enough and would prove to be indefatigable as he alternated dances with Lou  and another woman!  She was wearing white pants and a red shirt with tennis shoes and happily jigged and bobbed around.  Lou had on a black dress and looked sedate in comparison.

We decided that he must be the Designated Dancer.  I was hoping for a cat fight out on the floor with both ladies tearing hair and clawing faces, but (sigh) it never happened.  They shared him equally. 

I must say that Lou is a hard dawg to keep on the porch.  She wants to dance, dammit!