Last of the Blues

LtoR: Arta, Jean, Byrn, Wyona, Greg
...saying good-bye to the charming inside passage ...

I am starting to make my goodbyes ... looking forward to Alberta again. I dressed for dinner again – the glitter, the sequins, the pearls, the silk shawls, thinking how much fun they have been. Early by ½ hour, I went to spend it at the Cafe el Bacio, listening to jazz. How cool is that for the start of an evening. The guitarist was making me laugh, musically. “Would the guest from Room 2019 report to the Community Relations desk immediately.”

“Looks like somebody is not on board yet,” said the guitarist and then strummed dum, de dum dum / dum, de dum dum dah ... and the guests laughed. The theme from Dragnet. “I didn’t say a thing,” he went on.

“Can you play a tune from 39, 25, 37,” someone from South Carolina called out. “Can you give me the name of one of those tunes.”

“My Guy.”

“O.K.”, said the guitarist. “If I were in South Carolina, I would just do this.” He turned on his electronic section of drum strumming and let it play telling us ... look, music and no hands, South Carolina style. Those of us listening were laughing, at least on the inside. He said, “Look, I can do it manually as well,” turned off the electric aid and went on to pick the same rhythm on his guitar, soon adding the words and tune, his voice bending the notes in typical blues fashion. The people in the bar and its plaza were swaying with the music. “Now watch, as I add the band.” Back on went his electronic back up. Too soon the song was over. The audience was loving it. He slipped into some open conversation. They were two tables away from me. The waiter got mixed up and gave me the change from their bill. So I got a free drink and $5.00. And now they want $2.50 of it back.” Again everyone laughed and Butler slid into his next set. I had to go – formal night trumps blues in the bar ... at least when I am dressed for it.

Arta