Earlier this evening I ventured to beautiful Forsyth Park here in Savannah to attend a bit of the week-long Savannah Jazz Festival.
Here are a few pics and commentary.
First, let me just try to explain that I was going for a HIP look, one where attendees channel Bob Denver from the old Dobie Gillis show and snap their fingers instead of applauding.
See? We’re both kinda cool, right?
And here I am chit chatting with local WTOC meterologist and all-round good guy Pat Prokop. He warned me that rain was a’coming. And he was right.
And here I am when I walked to the front amphitheater between acts and waited patiently, wearing my lucky arrowhead, for that large man (in the upper left corner of the pic) to stop talking so I could address the crowd and let them know about important things, like how my blog could make them all even jazzier.
But he would NOT stop (on and on about generous sponsors and community spirit and love and coming together for shared experiences and the happiness of music and other silly talk that I just REFUSED to listen to because I had SO much to say). Finally I had to take matters into my own hands and talk directly to the festive horde (reminiscient of other times when I took to the microphone, such as that Savannah Westin trouble I got into about a month ago. Go to Happy Bringer #4 in the hyperlink if you don’t remember).
So I held out my hands and spoke to the throng (sort of like Jesus, I thought for a second, until it hit me that Jesus wanted to help them all while I wanted them all to help me. But actually, in a way that’s rather similar, don’t you think, except for the direction of the intended action).
Let me tell you this: Jazz people DO NOT pay much attention to you when, with ALL your heart, you try to encourage them with a short 10-15 minute lecture about the blogosphere and the simlilarities between the top musicians at the festival and my time as second chair trombonist in the Cherokee County High School Warrior Band.
So I just shook the dust off my feet (again, following Jesus’ instructions of what to do if people refuse to listen to you), sauntered straight back to my chair and quilt–a little huffy, I’ll admit–for more of friend Edward’s basil lemonade and a cold KFC chicken leg.
What a FUN fesitival this really lived up to be. Incredible music and a great crowd. Even with the rain.
I LOVE Savannah!