Sunday, June 25, 2006

My Favorite Musician's Joke

A jazz trumpet player dies in a subway mishap and instantly finds himself in what must be heaven. He starts walking around, taking in the sights. He notices that everything is light, fluffy, soft colors and such he says to himself, “Like wow, it's so pastel...” He sees people sitting around, plucking harps, lyres and dulcimers and muses “Whoa, it's like, so, modal.” He continues wandering, becoming more and more bored. Tries flying with the wings he seems to have sprouted with little success and thinks “Must take pixie dust or some shit like that.” He wonders why there hasn't been any explanation or introductions made. He wants a cigarette but has none.

Out of nowhere comes a very different looking angel. This one has long, shoulder length curly hair, a brightly colored set of robes that look like the caftans Miles Davis used to design. As he comes closer the musician sees that he's wearing black frame RayBans, and is carrying a gorgeous full on Harry James circus trumpet in one hand. The weird angel walks up to him and offers out his hand for some skin saying, “Hey baby, I just got hipped that you were here, welcome to heaven. That's where you are, all musician's go straight through, no line, no grouchy saints at the gates, right on in. I'm archangel Gabriel, but the cats all just call me Gabe. I'm going to get you all slick with the scene up here. Did you bring your ax?”

The trumpet man starts feeling about his robes and, like magic, finds his favorite trumpet, except now it's gold with silver filigree highlights and a solid gold Rubicon mouthpiece. He think about a Horning mute and it just appears in his other hand. He starts to smile.

Gabe continues, “The scene here is mind blowing kid, we have an eternal jam session, everybody, playing everything all the time. No matter what you want to blow, it's happening right here. You want to blow classics? They all here baby. Bach, Beethoven, Handel, Chopin, all them, all the time playing. Want to blow Mozart? That child sets records baby, never quits, he asked once about playing some pool but we don't have money up here and he got bored real fast. You want jazz? Harry's here, Ella, Satch, Miles, Train, Dexter, Krupa, Goodman, both Dorseys, you want in? Just tune up and sit. They been asking about you. Want blues? We got Bessie, Billy, Son House, Robert Johnson (there was no deal baby, you can dance with the devil but he don't let nobody else play), Blind Lemon, all them, all here, always playing. Rock? Hah! Those kids are dropping like flies baby, we got them all too. Anything you want, anytime you want it. How's that for Heaven?”

The jazz baby is starting to dance a bit, warming his mouthpiece in his hands, working his lips in and out, trying to decide where to sit in first. He says “Yeah, this is heaven, this really is heaven, where's Miles? Ain't had much work since he been gone, I want to see Miles again. This is HEAVEN.”

Gabriel says, “Yeah, heaven it is, Miles is right over there, see? But before you go, I got to tell you one more thing. OK? See, God's got this girlfriend, and, well, she, likes to sing. Dig?”

7 Comments:

Blogger maurinsky said...

great new header! Your joke makes me think of "The Ladies Who Sing With The Band" from Ain't Misbehavin'

11:02 AM  
Blogger The Minstrel Boy said...

The header is courtesy of The Dark Wraith. It is beautiful isn't it? At a show party for "Hello Hollywood, Hello" in Reno my sax buddy Rico and I did a skit with my 2nd ex (the showgirl) Mary Beth where we had her coming in to an audition (the set up identified her as the producer's girlfriend). She was given sheet music and began to sing "You say tomayto and I say tomayto
You say potayto and I say potayto
Wait. This is a stupid song. Can we do something by Frampton?"

11:16 AM  
Blogger maurinsky said...

She was given sheet music and began to sing "You say tomayto and I say tomayto
You say potayto and I say potayto
Wait. This is a stupid song. Can we do something by Frampton?"


Hee! Gershwin shouldn't even be mentioned in the same sentence with Frampton.

11:21 AM  
Blogger Deb said...

I didn't even get the joke! lol. I guess I'm too dense. I was thinking the joke was that she sings terribly, and they're going to have to play for her to sing for eternity b/c she's God's girlfriend. But, maybe the joke was just that they had to let her sing b/c she was God's gf,and how she sang was really not an issue at all. Can someone enlighten me, please?deb

3:42 PM  
Blogger The Minstrel Boy said...

The key to a professional musician is that Gabriel says "She likes to sing" not that she's a singer, not that she's any good. Yes, that's the joke, God's girlfriend, like the producer's girlfriend or the drummer's or, well, you know, ever hear of Paul McCartney's wife singing with anyone except Wings? Or Yoko. A notable exception is Patti Scialfa, Springsteen's wife. She's actually a fine musician who gave up a shot at a promising solo career to stay in the E Street Band with Bruce and the lads.
Hey, I just put your site up on the ol' link list. Best of luck with your career. Mine has progressed to the point of my being a shameless jingle whore. Ah well, it pays the bills and then some.

5:28 PM  
Blogger Deb said...

I just now read your last comment. Thank's for the explanation and for linking to my songs. :) deb

12:55 PM  
Blogger Adi said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

3:51 PM  

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