The long national nightmare is over. No, not the impeachment farce; it’s the end of the semester! Grades are in the books, work is done, and teachers and students are heading out for two weeks of glorious Christmas Break.
It’s been an eventful week. As the House was fulminating about Trump’s alleged “crimes,” I was playing a gig with our community jazz band. I play second alto sax with the group, but I asked to sing a song on this concert.
It’s long been a dream of mine to sing with a full jazz swing band behind me, and that dream came true Wednesday evening. I sang Andy Williams’s “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” and was a nervous wreck (if you’ve seen the lyrics to that tune, you’ll understand why—what a mouthful!). But I got through it admirably enough, even with a low-grade sinus infection.
The gig was during the dinner hour at a large church in town. The first alto player indicated how hungry he was, and wondered if he could get a plate. I told him (unhelpfully) that I’d eaten a bologna sandwich in my car before coming in (which sounds like a joke and/or the most mundane, pathetic detail in the world, but it was true). All the old guys in the band—it’s a swing band, so there are a lot of them—expressed their enthusiasm for bologna sandwiches, and asked how it was prepared: did I use mustard? “Nope, Duke’s mayonnaise, with cheese.” Murmurs of approval followed.
The Portly Politico 