Monday, December 07, 2009
Sax players always get the girls
I was at a little club/restaurant in Sydney called 'Soup Plus' this one time, and anyway, it was kinda quiet and this dude at the table casually gets out a case, pulls out a sax and plays 'memories'.
He plays it really, really well.
It was kind of cool, given he was a patron and that it was all so spontaneous.
He got the girls that night.
So, why mess with a formula. Back in NZ, I borrow a mates sax, rig a 3" speaker down into the cone and wire it to a little sony CD player, hidden in my pocket loaded with a CD of a solo sax session that was done by a chap called Mason, a Wellington muso who used to play tenor better than most.
I rehearsed the mime to his notes for fucking hours.
And then came the night to get the girls.
We hit Bachhus restaurant on Courtenay and it is full of hot totty. Flash, hot totty – a veritable smorgasbord of fleshful delights.
OK, so it's time to be the cool guy with the sax who gets the girls. About 10pm. I stand up at our table with sax strung over neck, reed approaching lips.
People are looking over now, keen to see what's gonna happen next. I surreptitiously hit the play button.
Out blares the theme from Flipper, the original from the CBS classic 60’s tv themes album. Complete with chorus girl vocals - "They call him Flipper, Flipper… king of the ocean..."
My mate Darryl who was with me, is on the floor now, tears of laughter, clutching his gut in the pain of sheer delight. On his part.
He, of course, is the guy who switched the CD!
I didn't get the girls.
He plays it really, really well.
It was kind of cool, given he was a patron and that it was all so spontaneous.
He got the girls that night.
So, why mess with a formula. Back in NZ, I borrow a mates sax, rig a 3" speaker down into the cone and wire it to a little sony CD player, hidden in my pocket loaded with a CD of a solo sax session that was done by a chap called Mason, a Wellington muso who used to play tenor better than most.
I rehearsed the mime to his notes for fucking hours.
And then came the night to get the girls.
We hit Bachhus restaurant on Courtenay and it is full of hot totty. Flash, hot totty – a veritable smorgasbord of fleshful delights.
OK, so it's time to be the cool guy with the sax who gets the girls. About 10pm. I stand up at our table with sax strung over neck, reed approaching lips.
People are looking over now, keen to see what's gonna happen next. I surreptitiously hit the play button.
Out blares the theme from Flipper, the original from the CBS classic 60’s tv themes album. Complete with chorus girl vocals - "They call him Flipper, Flipper… king of the ocean..."
My mate Darryl who was with me, is on the floor now, tears of laughter, clutching his gut in the pain of sheer delight. On his part.
He, of course, is the guy who switched the CD!
I didn't get the girls.
Labels: sax
Time keeps on slipping..
Ever wondered why time passes more quickly as you get older?
I reckon a lifetime’s duration is entirely perception. We can only measure a lifetime as a timeframe as the amount of time we have lived. It’s a feeling. Nothing more.
So when you are say, 5 years old, a year feels like.. well, is 20% of a lifetime - a fifth of your life. 20% is big chunk, it feels like a long time. At the time.
But when you are 50 years old a year is only 2% of your 'lifetime' – a tiny part of your lifetime.
And a ‘lifetime’ is a constant. It is what it is. A lifetime. Your lifetime. While the time frame changes, obviously, the perception of the lifetime is a constant at any moment throughout that life.
And 2% of this constant is a lot briefer than 20% of what is, essentially, the same constant.
And that is why time flies faster, as time goes by.
If we lived until 500 years old, a year would feel like a week.
Well, that’s my theory anyway.
And I accept that this may well be a load of old bollocks.
I reckon a lifetime’s duration is entirely perception. We can only measure a lifetime as a timeframe as the amount of time we have lived. It’s a feeling. Nothing more.
So when you are say, 5 years old, a year feels like.. well, is 20% of a lifetime - a fifth of your life. 20% is big chunk, it feels like a long time. At the time.
But when you are 50 years old a year is only 2% of your 'lifetime' – a tiny part of your lifetime.
And a ‘lifetime’ is a constant. It is what it is. A lifetime. Your lifetime. While the time frame changes, obviously, the perception of the lifetime is a constant at any moment throughout that life.
And 2% of this constant is a lot briefer than 20% of what is, essentially, the same constant.
And that is why time flies faster, as time goes by.
If we lived until 500 years old, a year would feel like a week.
Well, that’s my theory anyway.
And I accept that this may well be a load of old bollocks.
