So Sunday was the jazz day, and it was nice. I was a little worried about A and T liking it, because last time we went, they didn't, and I kind of semi-did, so it was all very blah. This time T went off with R (which I understand, dontworry), and A was stuck with me, but I think for most part, we enjoyed ourselves. I think, maybe because we are a bit older, and less eager to impress or understand. But I couldn't help thinking, I'm more comfortable listening to jazz in my own room, while playing Freecell or spider solitaire by myself. I even appreciate it more. I can't concentrate in a crowd. Infact, I don't like crowds at all. Or saying hello, or smiling or any of these things. I do them, but I don't like it when they get in my way of being real. Anyway, it was quality stuff, in my humble opinion of course, and I liked whatever I heard. I was also very into the French pianist dude, who disappeared when Hancock appeared. Oh well.
The crowd varied from the literate to the hotechais, and I guess I'd fall somewhere in between, but over all, they seemed to be into it all. Especially the older folk.
I want to listen to jazz like they did back in the 50s. In little saloons, with beer and heartbroken people. I like being romantic about it. So sue me.
This was too open air, and too, I dunno, hyped. It had too many rock chicks and sex tourist types.
Anyway, thank you P and G for the passes and the enthusiasm, especially P, standing behind me and pulling my hair when I was yakking. And also to the people sitting in front of me, smoking pot, unwittingly allowing me to inhale secondary smoke and making me semi-high.

P.S. I hate the fact that I'm so dispensable...even to you.