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1)  The Columbia Legacy Edition of Dave Brubeck’s Time Out album is worth every penny.  I picked it up at Hideaway Music about a week ago and it has provided much entertainment.  Two audio dics and a DVD.  The first, the complete original album that broke Billboard records back in 1959.  Disc two is nine or ten tracks of unreleased live recordings.  Favorites from Time Out plus other great songs like Pennies From Heaven et al.

2)  Sean “Diddy” Combs is on Letterman looking like a moron.  He spent the first half of his interview promoting an anti-malaria group that could be contacted at “double you, double you, double you, dot, malaria, no, more, dot, com, or dot, org, i, can’t, remember”.  He then starts talking about the sleep nets needed to prevent from getting bitten by malaria infected bugs.  Letterman asks three times (THREE TIMES MIND YOU), “Now once you’re infected is there a way to deal with the disease or is that it” (keep in mind this was rephrased twice after…  maybe to make sure he understood the question).  Diddy responds each time that we just need to purchase the nets…. WTF?

I actually had someone try to control a gig.

I was playing with my new trio.  It’s modern jazz at the “hardcore” level.  Much more intense than my last attempt at this genre, Bradford Truby Trio, back in New Orleans.  (No disrespect intended.  Truby Trio was the schizzette.  This is just different.  I’m older and darker in style than I once was.)

We played first set.  Then some people showed up who were linked to a record label (including talent scout).  I had planned it perfectly.  The scout was interested in original material.  We played a bit and then, as I began the introduction to the third song of the set, my arm was shaken.  I turn and am greeted with:

“What is wrong with you three?  Did you not think I was serious?  There is a dance floor for a reason.  I will pull the plug if I hear one more ‘art house jazz’ song.”

As I watch the talent scout observe this the drummer says to me, “Did  you just get reamed out?”

1) I counted 37 ment in the bar and 4 women.

2) 2 of those women came to see the drummer.

3) If you were 2 women would you want to “dance” with 37 men?

4) I got more email addresses than I have ever gotten in one night.  Also: [Jason] sold more CDs than normal.  If people didn’t enjoy us, or would’ve rather we were danceable, it would be made obvious to us.

BOTTOM LINE:  I have been doing the music thing much much longer than you have been doing the “club owner” thing (if you can call it that).  Where the hell do you get off?  Who the fuck are you to even try to control what I play?

A good ol’ fashioned Buffett swap.  Imagine the fun then Warren and Jimmy trade places for 6 months.

Never thought I would say this:  give Philadelphia police Bibles.  A pastor in Illinois used one to protect himself from flying bullets, why shouldn’t the rest of us.

An end to censorship on all levels.

And maybe, just maybe for us all to dance a little more often.

The evening unfolded with Kristen and I discussing money issues.  We were going to try and go out and meet up with my boss, and friend, Carl and his wife after they went out to dinner.  After we realized we were broke it was decided that going out was not in the near future.  Then Pres. Bush came on every channel we have (we are on one of those fancy antennas) to discuss the economic crisis.  (This post is not anti-Bush or anything political so let’s not make it that.)  After the speech sends us on a deep depression Kristen takes the ball and decides it’s time to leave. 

A block from our apartment we see Carl on the street, waiting for Claire to join him outside.  We move on to the Tavern on the Hill for a cocktail.  Once there we are greeted with a half-full bar, most people we know.  The patrons trickle out over the next half hour and we are left, almost alone, with a strange man.  Kristen went outside and came back disturbed that this strange man came up to her and rubbed her shoulder and arm in a way that is somewhat inappropriate.  Ten minutes later, while Carl is outside on the phone, Claire scoots a stool closer to me (taking Carl’s seat) pretending to read a sign and whispers that the strange man came up and rubbed her back in a way that wasn’t kosher.

I speak to the owner who informs me that this character (lets refer to him as A-hole from now on) has been in there all evening buying drinks for females that don’t know him.  The group makes the decision that A-hole is ruining the evening and it’s time to move on.  We pay our tab, at which point I notice that A-hole is getting his tab as well.

Half a block away from the bar it is realized that Carl and Claire’s car should be moved.  Claire volenteers to do it alone.  She crosses the street and I see A-hole exit the bar.  Carl, Kristen and myself stop walking to watch and A-hole looks at us and looks at Claire (across the street from him at this point) and he goes to follow her.  We promptly cross the street where we are to keep an eye.   Kristen then runs towards Claire (now a block away) and yells for that she wants to ride with her.  She meets up with Claire and they go down the alley of closed stores toward the parking lot.  Once they get out of our sight A-hole breaks into running and chases after them. 

Without missing a beat both Carl and I kick it up and run after him, Carl yelling a prominent, “HEY!”.  At this point (and afterwards Carl thought the same thing) I realize that I will keep running towards this guy but have no clue what I will do when I get there.  I then turn to my right and realize that Carl still has a lit cigarette.  That’s all we need to get some answers.  I am still on the sidewalk and Carl has made a shortcut through Border’s parking lot.  I then witness the man leap (in full original Super Mario Bros.-style pose) over the four foot wall at the edge of the lot. 

Turning the corner we are greeted with the pleasent image of Claire and Kristen already in Claire’s car backing out of a space.  When Carl and I reach the parking lot A-hole is off to the side in the shadows, realizing that the “boys” had chased after the “girls”.  He stood in the shadows and didn’t even have the decency to pretend he was urinating.

Good news is that the douchebag paid with a credit card and we have his name.  We went down to Campbell’s and Roger hooked us up.  All in all the evening was cool for all the wrong reasons.  On a side note, while driving away A-hole came out of the shadows on a sidestreet and Kristen gave him the finger and he returned the gesture.