All that jazz

We went back to Prince of Peace Church in Arlington in the morning.
After church, we hurried back to the apartment to change out of our
'Sunday best' for the All Africa Diaspora Market being held across the street at
the International Museum of Cultures. I was thinking we could grab food
there that would not only be nourishing but interesting. Rob got a
smoked brisket sandwich (Texan) and I got some meat-on-a-stick with a
side of boiled corn-and-greens-in-a-lump (African). I was surprised when
I tasted Rob's sandwich: it was smoked salt beef! Good grief ... all the
sodium and all the smoky carcinogens a person could ever want, rolled up
in a white bread wrapper, soaked in barbecue sauce. Need I say more? I
enjoyed my sticked meat but had to put a bunch of hot sauce on the
corn/greens combo. I don't know what those greens were but they didn't
taste like any greens I'd had before. Not spinach, cabbage, turnip,
collard ... maybe kelp. I have very little experience with kelp.

It seemed like the festival was mostly composed of vendors of touristy
items and 3 food stalls so we didn't stick around long. The schedule
reported a concert later so I thought, "Hey ... African music! Let's
come back!" We returned at/around 4PM and went inside the museum. We
were directed to a back room which looked primarily like it was used for
storage but was occasionally repurposed for other events with rows of
chairs, a TV/VCR combo and a podium with an attached microphone.
Scattered about were pieces of old exhibits, some nailed on the wall,
others stacked horizontally near the rafters. As it turns out, the
concert was Norman Fisher, a soprano saxophonist, performing jazz to an
accompaniment track. Rob and I sat with maybe 6 other people for the
first few songs. Norman asked at one point if there were other jazz
musicians in the crowd. I didn't respond until he asked about jazz
singers. He offered me the opportunity to join him. I explained that I
had been coughing all week. He responded that he had as well. I said I
didn't know the words to the songs. He said that he was about to do
"Satin Doll". Well. I could hardly say no to that.

I went to the podium. Norman switched on the mike. I realized as the
backing track began that it was a little low for my range, that I hadn't
warmed up, that I couldn't remember all the lyrics as clearly as I
thought I might have been able to. But I began when my time came
nonetheless. It was a good time. Surreal (singing about a pickup
scenario as the male protagonist on the grounds of Wycliffe property
from behind a podium under fluorescent lighting) but good.