There is something extraordinary about live jazz music. It is filling, it is rich, it is magical. I love the rhythm, the way the notes can fill a venue from floor to ceiling and hearts from bottom to top.
I sat alone in the Ritz lobby this evening, watching a trio play song after song. After a while, I felt like I knew the musicians: the goofy pianist with silver hair, the soulful bassist who smiled whenever the pianist crooned, and the woman on the drums – she held it all together.
It is a selfish prayer of mine that my future husband will love jazz and he will want to watch it live with me – someday.
Because what could possibly be more romantic than that?