A Night To Remember

What a night! As you probably know by now, our family loves music. None of us can sing, but my husband used to be a good trumpet player, and I used to be a good pianist. Now, however, our sole exposure to music comes through listening to other people perform. We're all pretty much okay with that.
We're big fans of jazz music. We have several jazz playlists, and the kids will often choose one to listen to while we're eating supper. If you've been my friend or read my blog for any length of time, you'll know how much I love Taj Mahal. The first time I saw him was with my husband at the Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival. I fell in love. Then we went again, last year, when he came to Jazz Alley. And of course, you will remember the time I swore I met him, and he paid for our dinner...
All have been fantastic experiences.

Well. Here's one more for the vault. I check Jazz Alley's postings regularly, to see who may be coming to town. I haven't since the man has been gone, because who am I going to go with?? But on a whim, I checked a couple months ago... and saw Taj scheduled. I thought about it, and decided this would be an awesome first concert to take my kids to. If they are going to look back, I want their early memories of music to include more than Katy Perry or The Biebs. I want them to love the classics, know the history, and appreciate it. I want them to one day go out on a date, and judge the person by how deeply they connect to good music. Yes, I'm manipulating my children. And I'm not ashamed. I can't have future sons or daughters in law who don't know who Taj Mahal is.

So here we are. At Jazz Alley, excited beyond words. And what the kids don't know at this point is that they have a little more surprise in store.

I think if you can talk to people, 9 times out of 10, they will want to help you out. So I talked to people. And here's how that worked out:


Oh yes. We just hung out with Taj Mahal for a bit before the show. It was so neat. He was gracious and friendly, and instantly fell in love with my kids' Polynesian names. He started speaking Pidgin to them, and the boys' eyes just lit up. They do love the Samoan side of their family.


They did pretty well during the show. About 40 minutes into it, they got tired and crabby, and started whining. I, of course, handled it with grace and finesse. And by "grace and finesse" I mean "anger and resentment." I hissed at them to knock that crap off, because I put out good money for these tickets and they had better sit up and appreciate this experience. Funny, it didn't work. What DID work, however, was Taj singing "Fishin' Blues" which happens to be one of their favorites. They sang along and perked right up. Fortunately, the show ended a few numbers later, because they were past their bedtime and done being mature.

At this point, we had bought a cd to send to my man. The kids wanted to get it autographed, so I said, "Go for it!" They went to the top secret after-the-show-Taj-hangout, and he was so happy to see them, he let them hang out for awhile while he played them a Hawaiian song on his ukulele and sang for them. I chatted with the drummer for a bit, who had just come back from visiting his granddaughter in Germany, and was loving how much my daughter favored her. They were a great group of guys, and the whole experience was amazing. When he sang Queen Bee (my very favorite song), I closed my eyes and just felt the music, and remembered how lucky I am to be married to a man who can rock me to my soul.

In case you're wondering, I did tell him about the time I was almost certain he bought us dinner. He laughed out loud, and said, "Huh. I wonder!" And that was that.

I'm secretly happy to let it go on being one of our family's great mysteries.