Me and The Night and The Music

I took myself out on a date last night. I wasn’t totally sure about the whole thing, maybe not so sure I’d like myself that much, but Ben Sidran, one of my favorite jazz/bebop artists was in town at the Dakota last night, and I didn’t want to miss him. I even told my daughter, voicing my apprehension, “At least when you could smoke in clubs, it gave you something to do, rather than just sit there.” I don’t even smoke.

I tried really hard to find someone to go with. One guy turned me down, acting as if I’d asked him for a life commitment, and my closer friends were just too overworked to plan to be out downtown on a Monday night. So, it looked like it was going to be just me and myself. And it was.

Strange how hard it was for me to go, really. But once I made the commitment to go, it did become fun. I worried about parking, no big deal. I worried about sitting alone for the evening, and that didn’t even happen. When I bought my ticket, they were getting close to being full and asked if I’d mind sitting at a table with someone, so I said, “No, I don’t mind.” This was after all, an adventure. I'd been a fan of Ben Sidran ever since I was a teenager, and when I'd seen him over ten years ago in concert, it was incredible, and so I knew this concert would be wonderful.

But when I got up to the second floor, and approached the table, the middle aged guy sitting there looked very surprised that he was sharing his table. It felt very awkward, and I started thinking maybe I could get another seat, but the place was filling up fast. He subtly used his left hand so that I could see his wedding ring. I was there, however for Ben and the boys, not to pick up men.

So, I decided to take things in hand and asked, “So, how are you?” It broke the ice and after that it was fine. A little awkward, in that the servers assumed we were together, but we clarified that. I ordered a glass of wine, he ordered dinner, separate tabs. When his chocolate souffle came, it was enough for me to savor the smell. I learned at the end of the evening, when we shook hands and said goodbye, that his name was Kieran.

And, once the music began, it didn’t matter who sat across the table, or that I was on the second level, without the greatest view. The music was amazing. Ben Sidran played piano and told his stories in his captivating way. And the other reason I was there, to hear 92 year old Irv Williams play sax didn’t disappoint, either. I’d seen Irv Williams with my ex, Steve, and his parents before we had married at the Riverview Supper Club, what seemed like a million years ago, and so to see him again, at 92, was incredible.

In the break I got to know my table mate a little better. He was originally from London, traveling in town with his son for their business. He was a mathematician. We talked about psychology, our families, and our businesses. I drank my one glass of Malbec slowly throughout the night, he ate his dinner. I was happy just to be out and listen to live music. The encore song was Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and Irv’s sax was as sweet as Kieran’s chocolate souffle had smelled. I was somewhere over the rainbow, on a date, with myself. I think I'll ask myself out again sometime soon.