Blues in the Night

I am a 52 year-old pastor, husband, and father. I have little free time, and the free time I do have, I spend with my wife, my wife who is a great fan of movies, but not much of a fan of live music, and especially no fan of jazz or blues.

I am not complaining. We have a great deal in common. Just not this.

So, last weekend we visited our son and daughter-in-law in Ft. Lauderdale, and Seth informed me that he wanted to take me to a jazz club for some music on Friday night.

Bless him.

As the guy who on normal days is going to bed between 9:00 and 10:00 o’clock at night, I found myself leaving the house at 9:15. This is not me.

We headed for Miami Beach, to a restaurant called the Van Dyke, which has an intimate upstairs venue for live music. We joined about forty or fifty other patrons, with no cover charge (a one drink minimum requested), and a blues band burning up the place. They clearly were doing what they absolutely loved doing. And the crowd loved it.

The drummer looked like he was an accountant by day. (That was Seth’s read. I have him pegged as a middle school music teacher.) The guitar player/vocalist played at times with such gusto that his hand blurred. And in addition to the bass player, the group was rounded out by a fiddler.

Now, we determined that this gal was Allison Krauss turned to the dark side. She seemed the same size and age as AK and played a mean fiddle. But there, the similarity ended. Her fiddle was an electric model, and her clothing revealed tattoos on both arms and filling her back.

We left, reluctantly, at 11:30, knowing our time at the parking meter was just about up.

What a great time. (Eat your heart out, JM! I know you are listening.) Thanks, Seth, for the wonderful gift.

If any of you ever have a chance to see the Nouveau Honkies, by all means do so.

But not you, Barb. I love you too much to subject you to such torture.

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Video from another venue: