Ritzy Guissepe, trumpeter, scat singer, fatneck live at the G-spot in Manhattan.
A years worth of music lessons and many long minutes a day of pretending to practice wasn't getting me the kind of acclaim I had expected. I was pretty well known at family gatherings but Uncle Louie’s hearing aid cost me a bundle. I want the fans to pay me. Maybe it was the style of music I played, there just wasn't a big audience for scales and arpeggios.
So one evening I went to a local jazz club downtown called “The WB Club” to see the Bobby Shoe Bebop Big Band. There was a line out the door and they made me pay five dollars to get in. I think Bobby gets it all cause the guy who took my money was dressed like a bum. Then when I got inside they charged me again! Anyway the band was really hot. I think that's why they didn't sound so good. Too hot in there. But It was an inspiring show, I came away thinking, "That sucked. I can do that."
So when I saw my teacher I told him about it. Goes a little something like this:
[a-one…a-two…a-one, two, mm, mm]
Me: “Bobby Shoe Bebop Big Band be blowin at da WB”
Teach: “Bobby who?”
Me: “Bobby Shoe.”
Teach: “Bobby Shoe Bebop Big Band be back?”
Me: “You bet.”
Teach: “How do da Bobby Shoe BeBop Big Band be blowin' to you?”
Me: “Boy, Bobby Shoe Bebop Band really be bad.”
Teach: “Shut up! By "bad" you mean good?”
Me: "No! By "bad" I mean "bad!" we boo'd Bobby Shoe."
Teach: “Shut up! You boo'd Bobby Shoe?”
Me: “Better believe it, boy we all had ta scoot.”
Teach: “Shut up!”
Me: “Better believe it. We heard a little bit o' Bobby beat up da blues, bought a bottle o’ beer and bit the bullet but it didn't get any better. Bobby didn't even get a little itty bitty bit better and boy we boo'd.”
Teach: “Shut up! You boo'd Bobby Shoe?”
Me: “Better believe it, boy we all had ta scoot.”
Teach: “Ya had ta skeedaddle?”
Me: “Skeedaddle we did.”
Teach: “Shut up!”
Me: “I bet I'd do better.”
Teach: “Better'n Bobby Shoe? Who you?”
Me: “I do. I bet I do way better bebop and I bet I get a better bebop band.”
Teach: “Bobby don't be no bum, baby. Bobby be a buddy backinna day!”
Me: “I bet I'd do better and I bet I'm gonna be bigger”
Teach: “Better'n Bobby Shoe, little ol’ you would do?”
Me: “I do. I bet I do way better bebop in a better bebop band then Bobby Shoe Bebop Big Band be blowin at da WBeeeeeeee.”
Teach: “Shut up!”
Thank you lady and gentleman, thank you both for coming! You've been a wonderful audient. Good night mom, dad. Thanks again. Don't leave yet, I need a ride home.
Written by numbsain...ex-jazz trumpeter, composer, decomposer, arranger, rearranger, park ranger.
Brought to you by SCAT® Cat Repellant.
and by Jazz-Away! Wipes out pesky jazz musicians on contact!
5 comments:
all the bset to you now my man
Al Bettago
Hey there you dude, why dontcha ansa yous questions Man? is yous a writer for a stand up comic? or a script writer of somme kind? come on lettus in!!!!
Al Bettago
On reading the other commentes Mr.Numbsain I reckon you must be busy eh?
Why you not come here any mores Mr?
So sad you not heres now my freind!
Gonza lesbed
XX
Yes I have been a tad preoccupied what with my first child coming. Not sure who the real mother is but I intend to do this myself. Not sure where the baby will come from, I haven't really got any baby sized orifices but I guess I will soon. I'm using the le paz method so that should help. So as you see I've been far too busy crocheting swaddlers and nuk-nuk cozies to express anything except fresh creamery grade a vitamin d milk from my hippopotomic bosoms which are getting me a lot of attention around the gym. No one ever talks me though. The left and my trainer were 'talking' for a minute there then I burped and he said it was a mood killer so it's feeling a little saggy. What?...No you can't feel it you musky hillbilly! Well maybe over padding, under bro. But what do I get? C'mon tough guy, at least do me up the pooky. Throw me a boner.
Keh!
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