Attempting to break the radio silence

I made a promise to myself a while back that I would not write when I was depressed. The line between therapeutic catharsis and self-destructive observation is far too easily erased when you're really deep down in it. I'm certainly too old for messy public displays of depression. Certainly. Also, I never want to be one of “those” poets/writers. You can take that as you would like.

That said-- I had a bad few weeks. The first job I had wasn't working out and I had to quit. The second job that I have isn't giving me the hours I need. I did find another job which is when things were starting to look up.

Knock on wood.

I think Nola knew she was on the verge of hurting my feelings beyond repair. In an attempt to make it up to me some great entertainment was provided this weekend. Starting with Touro Synagogues 21^st Annual Jazz Fest Shabbat. Two bands. One choir. And John Boutté.

Attending services usually creates a feeling of emotional vulnerability me. So not only is the choir and congregation wrapping me up in the emotional blanket of Friday night song, but Mr. B is belting out covers of Leonard Cohen's “Hallelujah” and Mayfield's “Please Send Me Someone To Love.” Oh man, and “You've Got to be Carefully Taught.” And the song, “All about Everything”....

I cried and cried and cried. Catharsis. Thy name is song.

I mean, I totally love being Jewish. Jazz Fest Shabbat is icing on cake at this point.

I did win tickets for a latin jazz show from WWOZ on Saturday night... but ended up not going. It was a time management issue. And I live in a city where free Jazz is sorta... a staple. Not really a sin to pass up on it. I would have had a great time if I'd gone. 

But I did I had to take a nap because I had to be bright eyed and bushy tailed at 2:30am (seriously) for a Beats Antique show at House of Blues. 

And I can't say much about the show. It's one of those situations where... you kinda had to be there.

Thankfully I recorded the finale to sort of give y'all a taste of what went down.

The sound isn't great. But to be fair, a digital camera has a hard time picking up sound from two drum sets, a drum machine, other electronic beep-bop-boop making devices and a giant sexy saxophone.

The sound in House of Blues was great. Fault my camera.

In other news.

Giant sexy saxophones get me... you know... totally hot. (The artist played clarinet too...)