Oh man, good for me. Look at me! I am listening to jazz.
Here I am, just taking in the moment. Fully present. Just me and the music.
Yup yup yup yup yup. Completely immersed. Thinking about nothing else.
The rhythm. The musicality. The syncopation.
Is that the right word? “Syncopation”? That’s a jazz thing?
Sync-o-pate sync-o-pate sync-o-pate.
One thing’s for sure: I am not on my phone right now.
I don’t even know how many minutes it’s been since I looked at my phone.
Because I am too busy listening to this song.
Is it a song?
Does it have to have words to be a song?
Maybe it’s a piece?
That’d be kinda pretentious. This isn’t a museum.
I mean it’s “ART.” No one is saying this isn’t art.
But it’s not Van Gogh. You can’t listen to a Van Gogh.
Is that insensitive? He cut off one ear. But he still had another one.
Oh, you know what? I bet they call it a “tune.”
Man, jazz guys are so cool.
That bass player is rockin’ that flat cap.
I don’t think I could pull that off.
Maybe if I carried a bass with me people would buy it.