Sudiegirl's jazz jam adventure, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY MTV!!!

Microbes made from scratch
(Betty Crocker brand or Duncan Hines? This doesn't seem like a project Pillsbury would be interested in.)

I'm feeling pretty good today, all things considered. I am sorry I didn't do a shout out this weekend, but I crashed out on Friday night and slept for about 14 hours. I am trying to kick my caffeine habit and I think it's slowly calming down.

Anyway, I went to a jazz jam last night at Roy's Place in Gaithersburg. It was a pretty interesting way to spend a Sunday night.

For those of you not familiar with Roy's Place - and I hope if you come visit me, we can go there - it's a restaurant/bar that's got a real "neighborhood" flavor, not a fake one like Ruby Tuesday's.

But the coolest thing about Roy's? It has over 120 (count 'em) sandwiches on the menu. They're expensive in some cases, but worth it. I'm not sure what D got, but I got the club sandwich and it was REALLY good. They also call chicken and turkey breasts "bosoms" instead, which I definitely appreciate. However, the sandwich my friend Paul P. ordered was unrecognizable, and furthermore, was almost smothered in baked beans. I think he ordered it just to punish his wife, but maybe I just have an active imagination.

Anyway, the jam was really good. It was a full house, and many good musicians were there. I was amazed at the high school kids most of all - they could REALLY play!

However, weirdness just seems to make itself apparent to me no matter how hard I try to avoid it. Here is one example:

There was a gentleman there who brought his guitar (which was a sweet-looking axe - bright red with a lovely finish), but he didn't go up to play. He sat at his table with his guitar in hand, and played along unplugged. I am naive as far as "jazz jam etiquette" is concerned, but I would think that it would be distracting to those around him. It just seemed weird that he thought himself up to participating in a jam from a distance. My friend Paul (who is not afraid to say whatever is on his mind) also thought it was weird.

It was interesting how the instrumentalists on stage were dressed like regular folks (polo shirts, khakis - nothing that screamed "I AM A JAZZ MUSICIAN!!!").

However, after I arrived, another woman came, and she was dressed in such a way that her fashion statement was "I am ARTISTIC!!!". Her hair was dark and artfully rumpled on her head. She wore a black top, minimal makeup, and heels with jeans.

I was dressed like a fat broad coming from church (denim jumper, sensible shoes, enough makeup so as to not scare anyone).

Of course, Fickle Fate wanted to see me sweat and cringe with nervousness so Bohemian Jazz Chick and her faithful accompanist sat down NEXT TO ME. Great. That was all I needed.

Anyway, I went on before she did, and it went all right but I was nervous as hell. I could kick myself for feeling that way, but I had never sung with these people before, nor had I sung in this place before. Overall, the audience was happy (good thing), but I still felt self conscious about myself.

That's what's so frustrating about my nature - even if I give a rip-roaring presentation and do everything the way I should, and people are happy and like what I did, I'm still going, "Oh - if only I had done this or that differently." Why can't I be happy with my performance? It's the diva in me, I'm sure, but I was trained so thoroughly NOT TO ACT like one.

D and I left early, and I asked my guitarist to give me a report on what the other singer sounded like. Here is his totally unbiased report...

The other "chick" singer gave awful a bad name. You just wouldn't have believed it. The piano player that she brought with her was hilarious, and I don't mean that in a good way. Just from looking at her, I knew that she was incredibly narcissistic. That kind of person rarely has real talent, they're usually legends in their own minds.

Now WHY can't I have that kind of confidence in myself? Damn it all! Oh well...

I see that Blogger is being cranky about posting pics (and I'm not even HOTLINKING, thank you very much) so I shall say adieu and be back when Blogger decides to behave.

Smooches!

Sudiegirl

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