I had a marvelous evening of jazz in three parts last night: the good, the bad, and the bizarre.
The good - RTQ! Always a joy. I ♥ the new saxophonist. Though Jim, if you introduce everyone in the band except yourself, people are going to think that your name is Rollo Tomasi.
The bad - I won't name the group pictured above, as they may google themselves, and they are too earnest to really hate. Also, there was some disagreement over what they were called (I'm sure I was on the wrong end of that argument, but I liked my answer better). Also, there was a marimba, which made their load in more fun to watch than most. Suffice it to say, there were about 20 of them, and their lead singer was a irritating white girl singing African music. Which is too bad, as the musicians themselves seemed pretty good. Or at least, very loud.
The weird - I had the strangest - Very Special Episode of the Facts Of Life - dream in which our intrepid girls venture out to a jazz club wearing berets and are offered pot. Answer from Blaire - "We don't get high. We annoy each other enough as it is."
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