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Said the Gramophone: My Funny Valentine
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"Said the Gramophone
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« Celery Stick = Chocolate Bar
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Said the Guests: Tim Moore »
November 3, 2005
My Funny Valentine
When I was in Riga, Latvia, we went to a jazz bar called Liize. It was mostly empty, there in the basement, and we sat at a booth near the back while a quartet jammed on stage. A woman with bird's hair sang in awkward English, nodding with the cool-and-careful piano player, bass and drums.
It was an open jam, at least officially, but no one joined them for a long time. Finally a barrel-chested man went up and played "Summertime" on trumpet. Then into the room sneaked a pair of men in black suits. One was silent and big - we imagined him as a bodyguard. The other had a pony-tail, a greasy little goatee, a rat's face. We nicknamed him Ratso. He said stuff in Latvian. We made up stories, him as the psychopathic son of the big russian mob boss, the annoying guy that no one dares mess with.
Ratso asked to play the piano and the piano-player made way. Boy did Ratso have a good time. Ratso played boogie-woogie with gusto, he hammed up crescendos, he insisted that we cheer along. As the singer sang he punctuated her lyrics with innuendo-filled piano trills. He threw back his head and laughed. Ratso led the show for well over an hour. Whatta guy.
Later, Ratso left the stage and went to the back of the room, the next table over from us. He chatted with a handsome blonde man who was sitting with two women in slinky numbers. I imagined the blonde man as some TV actor or sports star. He and Ratso laughed and caroused. The band played.
Toward the very end of the evening a man in a sweater got up. He had been sitting there the whole time. He was small, with short brown hair. Late 40s. He didn't talk much. He murmur"
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