For the last few weeks, I have noticed something in the early morning.
Something makes my skin crawl as I walk from my car to the Starbucks.
The closer I get, the worse it is.
And then I hit the front door.
And the music hits me.
But before I can truly allow my mind to unwind into the true horror of Jazz.
And there he is.
This is unexpected.
Head bobbing, tea shades, hipster hat at a jaunty angle.
Soul patch riding right below his bottom lip.
It’s the return of the Jazz man.
Starbucks is in an awkward phase.
80% of the music is Christmas music.
The remaining shitty torturous 20% is jazz.
People hate Jazz, I do not think I am alone in this.
Even in the vacuum of space, where there is nothing?
There are people who hate jazz.
Jazz makes me feel the same way X-lax does.
Shit, pure shit.
But not to the Jazz man.
Given the delight that lights up his face when John Coltrane’s great hits, side one, track one came on, this is his life.
By the way, I had the Starbucks manager look for me, that is the only way I could know that John Coltrane was playing.
I would have guessed recorded cat murder, but as I said, I would be guessing.
Lets face it folks, no fighting it.
And I have said this before.
If I had my way, all Jazz musicians would fight to the death on pay per view, until only one was left.
And then we ban his music and break his hands.
Tis the season to be vicious, fa la la la la.
On the other hand, most Xmas music sucks as well.
When I first heard “Santa Baby” by Eartha Kitt, it was hip and cool.
You have to give it to her, the woman was vocal sex.
She was a stunning piece of ass back in the day.
However, upon hearing it for the several hundredth time, right after Jazz great Charles Mingus destroys music as we know it, I began to hate it.
Like fingers on a chalkboard.
That and paddle boarding.
I realize this is going off on a tangent, but that sucks as well.
Paddle boarding is the latest fad of the upwardly mobile.
Its this years hot yoga.
Don’t even ask.
Fine, I’ll tell you.
Hot yoga is doing yoga, thats bad enough, but its done in a 100 degree plus room.
Its a work out designed to give you a world class case of rotten swamp ass.
And nothing is worth that.
Well, there are a couple of things worth that, but that is none of your business.
Some things are private, totally hypocritical, I know.
Back to paddle boarding and Jazz.
Maybe the two are tied together.
And maybe I am just bitching too much.
And maybe the thing is that I envy the Jazz man.
You have to envy anyone who is into anything that much.
Even if it sucks.
Except paddle boarding.
Yuppie maggots, I hope they all drown.