a night in tunisia and the vernal equinox

after sitting in traffic for 90 minutes and making the rounds around the castro for a parking spot, i climbed up an incline at 18th and something, about two blocks south of castro. i ran to the castro theater where the line snaked down the street.

all to see water, deepa metha's latest completing her trilogy of fire and earth...
i have been waiting for this film for years. fire and earth both swept me away.

well, i wasn't smart enough to pay my $15 bucks in advance. i was hoping that i'd get into san francisco by 5 pm and buy a ticket, no problem.

the line inched forward and i was hopeful. there are 3,000 seats in the castro theater.
at 6:30 the festival organizers told us it was sold out. i was one of about 20 folks who weren't lucky enough to get in.

dang. i even asked the will call folks and they wouldn't release a ticket to me.

no hearing the director for me. no seeing the film.

i'll have to stop by one of the indian music/movie stores and see if it's available.

this freed my evening up to have dinner with mr. solomon. we pakwaned and i roped him into going to a jazz tribute to phil ellswood (?) that my violin instructor invited me to earlier in the afternoon.

we arrived and i didn't know it would be like a memoriam. the hall was full. lots of folks of varying ages listening to some greats on stage play in memoriam of this man.
i caught my teacher in the corner of the room and awaited her to take the stage.

we got birds eye view seats just stage right. above the piano, above the saxophonists, and above the drummer and trumpet and trombone.

good-bye pork pie hat.

a night in tunisia.

i may have missed my instructor, but a night in tunisia is the first jazz tune i came to know by name from its melody. in all of its inceptions i have loved this song.

and this combo played it spontaneously. they hadn't reheased it. the upright bass player began playing the running line and then the drummer joined in with his brushes and the horn section took turns soloing and coming together.

i was in bliss, kneeling on my chair, looking over the balcony, taken in by the finger techniques of the bass player and the saxophonists keying their horns. the flash of brass when the light struck my eyes.

all of these cats were my dad's age and i love love love love love love love
that music removes age from people.

men tottered on stage in their suits or slacks or jeans
peppered hair
no hair
wrinkles framing their eyes
glasses framing their eyes

one woman sax player frosted her hair, wore glasses

and they rocked
they rocked and everyone in the audience was taken in.