Loathing Sundays is a hangup I’ve had since I was small, but the local session at Black Saint saved Sunday for me last night. Before heading out, I made successfully made oyako-don for dinner which allowed me to abandon my family for to go play music without the usual guilt. The weather was milder, so the ride there and back was pleasant, too (I can’t wait for spring!)
The cable I used was a bit unreliable, but I brought a spare which I almost forgot to use. I’ve been waiting to call Speak Low and Donna Lee for months, and finally got to play them both. The latter was seen as something of a challenge to a young, and nerdy sax player who can REALLY blow, but this was probably helped him to accept my invitation to practice together. He lives around the corner from me, and apparently practices in karaoke booths. That’s what I need to do if I want to sound as good as he does.
Even being cock-blocked by some old man when I was chatting up the only girl in the place wasn’t irritating to because he turned out to work for Jump Comics as an international sales person. From him I learned that it costs about $50 to color one page of manga, and that they’re planning to distribute it on iPhones. Anyway, I found out where the girl works and can pursue that anytime.
The only low point of the evening was this couple who are trying to get me to give their daughter English and guitar lessons. I could use some extra cash which is why I have indulged them up to this point. Teaching guitar would be cool, but I can’t stand teaching English to kids besides my own and last night was a reminder why. They brought their daughter along to a dark, smoky jazz club and tried to force her to speak English to some strange, hairy guy (me) and the girl has never studied A WORD! Despite my best efforts, the poor girl was so nervous she deliberately avoided eye contact on her way out. There should be a law against weird people having kids. I’d certainly be better off ( if not in jail.)