Since the nights of scribbling math equations on scratch paper for the GRE are finally over (at least for now, I’ll probably take it again), I had time to go out to a concert last night with my friend Loreen. She told me that it was a jazz concert, which give me a sinking sense of doom – I even asked her if we could sit near the back so I could cut out if it got too bad. It’s not that I don’t like jazz, in fact, I’m a big fan of Chet Baker and John Coltrane – I just don’t like certain types of jazz. As we were waiting for the concert to begin, the KennyG/Michael Bolton tape that was playing over the sound system didn’t ease my anxiety.
Well, I was wrong. The quartet, Jazz Sabroson, was excellent. The guitarist, in particular, had a beautiful sound. He played almost casually, but every note came out in beautiful round bell tones. It was like hearing the sound of someone playing as you walk down the street, but it’s so beautiful, you just know it’s going to stop before you have a chance to track down the source. This time, I made it, and it was like I caught the leprechaun, it was that good.