May 22, 2006

• Last night was the best fun I’ve had in I can’t remember how long.  It was our third time there so, sitting in our usual booth, I felt at home.  This band was R and B and guess who else was there?  When the singer announced there was a special guest in the audience, a saxophone player and singer, my friend and I looked at each other.  The odd thing was I expected him to be there.  Sure enough he took the stage and we hit the dance floor.  I was dancing right next to his mic and he smiled hello.  When he sings rough it’s like he’s blowing the sax with everything he’s got.  Well, not everything.  He has a deliberate way about him. Come to think of it when he sings softly, which soothes me, it’s that same quality the sax has, kind of muffled.  It’s a soft, thick, rich sound. 

  
  

   I watched him and thought way to go.  He had gone back to the place where the band he plays with would not be invited back.  He picked a successful woman’s band, with a lead singer he knew would invite him up.  The last song he invited himself up after she was through, saying he wanted to give the man’s perspective.  I love the way he did it.  It was his chance and he took it.  He didn’t push his way up there and he didn’t ask.  He sweet-talked her, starting a dialogue. He’d worked out this whole routine, playing off what she’d just sung.  The band adapted and the audience loved it. 

  
  

  He did such a good job on the last song I wasn’t even dancing.  I just stood below and clapped to his rhythm.  He had the audience goin’ nuts.  When he’s with his band he doesn’t get to sing that much and half the songs don’t use the sax.  After the show I was talking to the singer, a very large black woman, maybe in her late 30s, the one who invited him to come up and sing.  I asked if she had a website so I could see where else she was playing.  About that time he came up and joined us, (finally, because I waited all night for him to come find our table.  He was sitting around the corner from us at the table the band shared when they took breaks.  I know because when I was dancing I’d sneak peeks at him watching me.  And let me just tell you how good that felt.  I’ve never danced for a man before.  I mean one that I knew.  It was always competitions or shows, so the only men were husbands or boyfriends.  The few times I danced in a restaurant it was for other dancers.  So to see the look on his face and to know I’ve still got it, I imagine it was how he felt with me standing below him clapping).  Anyway, the three of us stood there and I said how good they were together.  At the end of the last song he’d turned to her and started singing back-up harmony, that soft sound.

  
  

  When he came up to us he talked to her first.  Then he put his hand out to shake, the way you would with a business acquaintance you hadn’t seen in a while.  “Hey, how you doin’?” he said. This was in front of her and sounded much more Black than when I’d talked to him before.

  
  

   The last thing he said to her was “So I’ll see you Sunday?”  Prior to that I’d asked him where his sax was which was a stupid question but I’d had a few drinks.  He said “I have to figure out something new to do.”  I know this will sound narcissistic but I am beginning to believe there’s a reason he met me.  I wonder if his taking steps to make a bigger place for himself is the same reason I am practicing in my kitchen.  When someone is watching, someone you think is cool, and they really see you, it’s validating enough that you want to be better for them. 

  
  

   His hand was rough, like a laborer’s, and I wondered where they’d been that day.  I couldn’t believe what he had on.  It suited him somehow but I swear he looked like Pinocchio.  Either that or one of the boys in the Sound of Music, singing in the meadow.  The guy has a thing about costuming.  And shoes.  Every time I see him he has a different pair of shoes on.  He has great shoes.  Thank God he’s married and Black and probably too young. 

  • 1:15 am
  • 23 Comments