Hotel Pianist no longer blogs, thanks to having been outed by a numbskull fellow blogger. From time to time, though, she sends e-mail messages. This is the latest one:
I have two musician jokes for you today:
1. I’m often bored enough to drool at the piano. One way I try to counteract this boredom is by pretending I’m the “bass player” after I improvise a piano solo; I’ll do a little solo with my left hand while comping with my right. Last week, a saxophonist friend of mine came to listen in the lobby. When I started to play with my left hand, she joked: “Bass solo! Time to start talking.”
2. There’s a little joke among jazz musicians at jam sessions. You go up to someone and say, “You sounded good. HOW’D I SOUND?” Well, tonight a man came in who embodied this joke, but he wasn’t a jazz musician – he was a drunk who occasionally does some sort of work for the restaurant management.
He sat down next to me and asked, “How do I look?” In my dreams, I replied, “You have a face only a mother could love,” but in actuality I shrugged, “Fine.”
Then he requested “Someone To Watch Over Me.” I started to play this lovely tune and, of course, he started to warble over it. He could barely remember any of the words, but after I had played the last chord, there was the inevitable question from him: “How do I sound?”
I’m glad he stopped with that; I was worried the next question would be, ‘How do I SMELL?”