Sunday, February 3, 2013

Jazz On A Summers Day

It's been a good weekend, busy and productive, full of cooking and cleaning and resting and reading, all punctuated by about eleven thousand loads of washing.

On Saturday night Keith and I sacked out on the lounge with the Saturday paper, some roasted-beetroot dip and  Jazz On A Summers Day playing on the big screen.

This documentary is about the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival. It is grainy and dark and atmospheric and wonderful. The performers are fabulous-  Louis Armstrong and Chuck Berry and Mahalia Jackson -  but it is the crowd scenes that are transporting to watch.

There are clam-diggers and cats-eye sunglasses and capri pants as far as the eye can see. 

Lots of finger-snapping jazz cats. 

Zoot suits and Panama hats and everybody smoking and eating hot dogs. 

Lots of gorgeous girls and greaser boys with duck-tails and white t-shirts. 

Ballet flats and Marcel waves and Peter Pan collars and headscarves. 

It was an lovely Saturday night; calm and restful and quiet. Just what I needed after last weeks intensity, and a good way to prep for a school week ahead. Plus, I am inspired to add some red lipstick and a headscarf to the school run.

Wishing all you cats a cool week, man.


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Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.