Monday 11th of August, 2003
a funk jam that will last at thousand years
Very little is achieved today - I am still in a strange buzzy state from San Cugat, yet at the same time it's too hot (and I'm too tired) to do any real work. Pah.
In the evening there's the Jazz Jam. It appears that they found a more than perfect replacement for me, more perfect than me, that's for sure. I cannot quite convince them that I'm very pleased for them and hope they'll be very happy together. This week I play all the solos I can, perhaps not fully advisable (it's six weeks since I last touched the bass) but fun. For me, anyway. Two of the regulars play bass rather than their usual instruments and I'm forced to relinquish my instrument to two sweaty strangers, one of whom is not just sweaty but openly unusual and is keen to instigate a funk jam that will last at thousand years. He is followed by a large woman with pink hair, who proudly proclaims various problems she has in her life, and which she presumably wears like medals, who plays (inexpertly) and sings (more so) Ain't Got No as a tribute to Nina Simone and her autistic son. Another son provides vocal interjections.
I have absolutely no idea what to make of any of this.
Late to bed, though.
