2002-05-29 � Two for One

1) From Brett Regarding Jenny Sue

The following has been culled from an email sent to me by the lovely and charming Brett.

Just in case you are wondering what JSQ stands for...it is Jenni Sue's new alter-ego. She is going to great lengths to try and "urbanize" her image. That's right kiddies...Jenny Sue Q---------- has now gone GHETTO. She bought herself a Mary J. Blidge CD and has started using words like "phat" and "WORD". The absolute BEST PART of this WHOLE thing is the fact that she wants to be called JSQ now. I feel this is a nod to Jennifer Lopez or J-Lo as the world now calls her. Knowing how you like to track JSQ's progress I thought that you would find this rather amusing. :)

It seems that immediately following the renaming, Jenny Sue broke loose with, "well, spit fire and save the matches!"

Save the matches indeed.

~~~~~~

2) The Jazz Club

Dr. and Mrs. S were up to celebrate the gaduation of their daughter, Chris. I've spoken of them here and here. They threw a marvelous party at the Vesper Club. My parents and I were in attendence along with a favorite professor and his wife and a few of Chris' treasured friends.

It was a wonderful time. There was great conversation and the food was really very wonderful.

Dinner ended at about 10:00, and a number of us weren't quite ready to call it a night. Wendy suggested we should go for a drink and after a good deal of debate, it was decided that the drink was to be had at Zanzabar Blue, a local jazz club. My parents love live music as much as I do, so we were in. Dr. and Mrs. S seemed game so they came along. Of course, Wendy and Chris were up for it.

We said our goodbyes to the dinner guests who would not be attending the after party and made our way to the club. They found a table to accomidate us and we settled in as the ensemble started their set. In very short order it became exceedingly obvious that neither Dr. nor Mrs. S were particularly partial to jazz.

Rita came out to sing. She was wonderful. She had a deep smokey voice and a soulful, relaxed syncopation that was a joy. "Oh, for Chrissakes. It looks like she just stepped off the boat from Africa," said Dr. S. "You know, she's not as good as she thinks she is."

The table came to a bit of stunned silence as we were reminded that Dr. S has no internal monologue. We sipped our Sambuca and looked nervously around.

Rita began to scat and Mrs. S stroked her temples in that way I'd become accustomed to seeing when I was a guest in her home. She looked positively disturbed. "Why do they have to sing it like that?" she wondered aloud.

And then she did the most remarkable thing. She began lipsynching to Rita's scat. Her eyes got glassy and her head lolled to the side and she let her jaw flap open and closed like a Muppet.

At about that time, the set ended. Rita promised to be back in a few moments. "Won't catch me here!" Dr. S yelled back at the stage. "Not on your life and that's the truth." He chewed on his cigar and folded his arms across his chest.

I leaned across the table. "Chris? Your parents don't like jazz, do they?"

"No," she responded simply.

"Well, why did we bring them to a jazz club? There are lots of other places to hear music in Philly. We could have taken them to a piano bar or something."

"But you and I like jazz." She looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

Sometimes I'm a real simpleton.

Posted at 12:47 p.m.

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