“Come together - over meeee” throbbed the musical instruments, wordlessly. The aroma of coffee permeated. Heads and shoulders and feet tapped or bobbed in time.
The keyboard player wrapped his focus up in the music and let it float.
The sax player was about 15. His instrument wailed and laughed and encouraged us to wail and laugh along. Yanno this scene is a replay. The first edition happened a life time and an ocean away in a similar local coffee shop. Despite the time lapse the music is the same. That night I had to leave early to catch the train to be “in” by my mother imposed curfew.
Then my sized 4 frame easily thread itself through the tables and chairs. My straight shift dress and bright woven stockings fit right in. As I walked by the band it stopped. Every member froze. All eyes in the room were on me. Not a note played to cover my “I must get a train” tracks. Tonight this gal has no train to catch, but I do want to be there when our daughter gets home from her late shift.
This bass guitarist choreographed his playing into a full body expression of John Lennon’s music. A musical genius, he does not read music. He played, danced with, worked and slapped that guitar and it sang back at him. His wife said the first time she saw him play she thought he was on drugs. His real name is Jimmy Hendrix, I kid you not, no writer’s license there. He is well named. He has the most callisthenic neck and head known to man. It’s no mystery why he is so thin. He plays guitar like George Bush senior played golf.
Families and friends cheered and photographed them, sent out tweets and posts and in nano seconds others, miles or states away were cyber aware of the scene. The technology is different but the heart of the music, the dedication of the musicians and the joy they brings are timeless. And a local band at a local coffee shop still rocks.
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