If Halloween lends itself to a spooky jazz show, then Christmas pairs admirably with the blues.  There are so many great holiday songs rendered in blues version.  Some of them address how many can feel bummed out during this time of year, whether from a sense of loneliness or a lack of daylight.  But I just enjoy music, especially when performed live, and jumped at the opportunity to join a friend for a blues night.

The place didn’t have a website but I found their Facebook page so I was able to check out their menu ahead of time.  This was fortunate; apparently they only have about a handful of printed menus.  This is not because they are a high-tech place that has QR codes on the tables.  Presumably the reason is due to so many regulars that everybody already knows what they have.

I also discovered that the place is cash only.  I was glad to know, since I rarely have a cache of cash.  I found this interesting in an age when many places are going completely cashless.  But it was consistent with what I would expect from a dive bar with a blues band.  However, the bathroom was a pleasant surprise—much cleaner than I expected.

I opted for pizza, getting a 14” so as to ensure I’d have enough.  I ended up taking half home, which doesn’t usually happen.  This place definitely gets my vote for value-oriented eating.  They also grill steaks, serve breakfast all day, and offer monster breaded tenderloins.  They also provide plate dinners like manhattans, which seem to be hard to find nowadays.

We arrived shortly before the music started so I got to meet my friend’s friends.  We had a small gift exchange.  Note to self—if someone says $3 is the item price limit, don’t believe it.  It’s all lies!  You better spend at least $8 if you don’t want to look like a complete cheapskate.  Not to mention that I don’t usually buy Christmas-y type things, which seem to be what is expected with these events.  

The first band was enjoyable, playing covers of popular blues songs from classic rock artists.  It was loud enough you had to kind of yell at each other, but not so much that I needed to break out the earplugs in my pocket.  After we finished eating, we got up to dance in a very small area right in front of the band.  Nobody seemed to care so it must have been normal there.

As the next group prepared to take the stage, I noticed a man in all black, including his hat.  His outfit was accented with many rhinestones, but as he brought his instrument up front I saw that his shoes were completely covered in sequins.  We nicknamed him Mr. Sparkles.  Once he started playing I realized that when you are as good as he is, you can wear anything you want.

We danced again, but this time I was mesmerized by watching the musicians.  I enjoy seeing the technical expertise in playing instruments, but I was even more fascinated by the interaction of the band members.  They would play off one another, with one soloing while another backed them up—all while communicating without words, in some kind of musician code.

Through the course of the evening, I noticed some people with drink koozies that said, “I’d rather be here than across the street.”  I pointed it out to my friend, and asked if that referred to a rival bar close by.  She looked at me with a grave expression and replied: “It’s a cemetery.”