Jazz Hands

There are few things that give me greater pleasure than the spontaneity of life: Those moments that are unknown and therefore go unplanned, right up until the time that they happen. Those moments that, when they happen you hope you can repeat and they have the same effect.

Today is a short post mainly because I have little more to say than that today was one of those days that contained one of those moments.

A afternoon of shopping and browsing suddenly became an afternoon of sitting in the grounds of The Eastbourne Grand Hotel in the best company possible listening to a jazz band while eating a burger and sipping Prosecco and it was perfect.

The band were quite brilliant: A mix of traditional and modern Jazz that could have, at any moment, burst into ‘When the Saints go Marching In’. They didn’t!

Right on the dot of 2:30, just as we had been warned, they finished, packed up and one by one, the 6 gentlemen left. One of the last to leave was the guy on the Clarinet. This man, for 90 minutes or so, had kept us entertained with the most amazing musicianship: He produced a tone that only a player of experience could produce, a tone that demonstrated a dedication not to a note or a piece sheet music or even a CD, but dedication to a craft: And he was quite remarkable. But as he left, you couldn’t help but notice that without the clarinet or perhaps even his 5 colleagues he was a quiet, unassuming guy that people would walk past in the street and be no wiser: But isn’t that the same for all of us until we do something or say something that enables people to see us differently or for who we really are.

Just a thought to consider.

And if you don’t want to consider it, I thoroughly recommend going to the Jazz Barbecue between 12 and 2.30 (weather permitting) every Saturday…but expect a long wait for food if you get the same load of incompetent staff as we got!!!