The surgeon distracted me from the ouches he was inflicting on my legs today (see below) by telling me about his trip last weekend to the opening of New Orleans Jazz Fest. He saw Simon & Garfunkle and The Allman Brothers Band and lots of jazz/gospel acts I haven't heard of. My best friend is there this weekend, seeing Pearl Jam and Van Morrison and lots of jazz/gospel acts I haven't heard of. Sounds like a helluva party, huh? Living vicariously through them takes some of the blech out of wearing spending Saturday night in these fucking support hose. (Though at least the USA Network was good enough to run an NCIS marathon, so I have my TV boyfriend Gibbs to keep me company.)
BTW, this poster was originally a painting by Tony Bennett. How's that for cool?
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I want the Jazz Fest tunes without the crowds. But the crowds feed the environment that makes the music reach that other level. I will see it someday.
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