took me to an Italian restaurant featuring live music in the form of a band
called “Blues Union.” If you’ve been
paying attention you know that I’m a blues freak, so the name sounded
food was decent, the service was excellent, but I’m sorry to say the band
sucked banana slugs. If you took the
blues, knocked it unconscious, and stuffed it inside a Hefty bag, that’s what
it would sound like. I’ve heard more
soulful music in elevators and doctors’ waiting rooms.
gulped down the rest of our wine and skedaddled, ending up at the
bookstore/coffee shop where I spend half my life. There’s a stage there and the “Island Jazz
Quintet” was performing with, mysteriously, six musicians.
this was a much more entertaining band.
Strangely, they were selling t-shirts with IJQ in big black letters on a
plain red shirt. Is this the IM culture
run amok again? Have graphics become
passé? Still, with coffee in my hand, I
was pleased with this date experience.
the kids up from the Little Gym and went home.
(Parents, if there’s a Little Gym franchise near you, check it out. Friday “Parents’ Survival Night” is a Good Thing. Judging by the relief on the faces of the
other parents leaving their kids there, I’m not the only one who thinks
so.) Exhausted children went right to
this is a G rated blog, I’m going to end the narrative here, so if you read
this far hoping for the juicy details, you’re out of luck.