So i lying in the sun (argh, the sun!!) at the Abbotsford convent yesterday and there was a Jazz group playing, there's always a group of some sort playing in front of 'Lental as Anything' in the evening, the saxophone player was hitting all the right notes, i was beginning to like my ears more and more, ears are pretty cool, you know?
The music that soothes my soul
And then i thought of something i read last week of how some people hate Saxophone, they hate it so much they have a facebook group called 'I hate the sound of the saxaphone', i think there is a word for these people, besides any of the obvious words that might come to mind, but Google doesn't know it, so maybe there isn't a word, that or google doesn't know as much as i thought?
As much as i dont agree, the comments expressed are pretty entertaining, like...
This woman has the same expression as my auntie had when i played the best of Beethoven one morning
I pointed out to my auntie after here 'little episode'
When we are amongst great music, we have a duty to act nobleShe didn't agree and seemed to favour 'The morning show', and watch a bunch of women her own age talk about the same stuff they were talking about yesterday.
But i digress...
Seems to me, like this anti-Sax group are torturing themselves in their pet hate, like eating ham sandwiches, when you really hate ham sandwiches, make yourself another kind of sandwich, dammit!!!
Lisa knows it!
Maybe they think that one day that ham sandwiches will taste good, possibly listening to a bit of John Coltrane? Now, Coltrane is one of my Jazz heroes.
One mans trash...(god, i would kill of one now!)
One of my favourite books is On the road, by Jack Kerouac, it's a trip, it inspired people to travel back in teh 60's, to me it's the best book ever written, Jazz music was an evolving form of music at the time and here's part of a review of the book
What the Beats understood and identified with in jazz, was protest against the white middle-class world. As Sal Paradise observes in part one of the novel, "Every single one of us was blushing. This is the story of America. Everybody's doing what they think they're supposed to do." Kerouac intuitively understood that you can't have jazz without protest, and along with his Beat friends regarded jazz musicians like Charlie Parker and Thelonious Monk as true American geniuses, heroes, and rebels. Just as Sal later thinks Dean "look(s) like God," while high on marijuana bumping along the back roads of Mexico, those jazz musicians who can really "blow" are the "prophets" and "shepherds" come to lead the straying but faithful back to "the golden world that Jesus came from." It is therefore not surprising that many of the freshest and most startling descriptive passages in On the Road are of roadhouse juke-joints and wild late-night jam sessions in urban jazz clubs filled with all the vagaries of nightlife one could imagine. In these scenes positioned throughout the novel to punctuate the emotional ups and downs of the road-weary heroes, one encounters Kerouac's most successful rendering of the simultaneity of antithetical images and meanings of both "down-and-out" and "beatific."In some ways, i kinda of get it how some can hate a particular music or sound, when i was in South America i hated Reggathon music, everyone else seemed to think it constituted 'good music' for a night out, i would run away like someone set me on fire.
I met a German guy that told me how he hated 'Pan pipes', he told me if he heard Pan Pipes, he would jump off the balcony we were on, it was about 100 feet down too, he seemed to know what he was talking about
Hmm, I'm hungry, hand made ham sandwiches! What, you made them yourself? I hope you don't mind me having one? You don't, Do you have mustard? Yes, there is a god!
An artist impression of me eating a ham sandwitch
Tell you what buddy, "I'll do you a favour, I'll eat all your sandwiches for you'
How what are you going to do for me?