"Did you ever get that feeling in the moonlight/ that wonderful feeling that you want be kissed?/You're strolling in the park/ the stars so bright above/ you'd love to love somebody, but there's nobody there to love/ Did you ever get that longing on a June night/ the wonderful longing you can never resist?/ Did you ever get that feeling in the moonlight/ that feeling that says you want to be kissed?"
Gene Krupa and Orchestra, 1945
Yes, yes, and YES.
This entry goes out to all my women friends who are FABULOUS and attractive, and kind-hearted, and feisty and ambitious and who have it together. What is up with the lack of men who are equal or near equal to our caliber? The men who want more than tail and who refuse to be easy, because they too want something that MEANS something. Because God forbid that dating and physical and emotional intimacy should be WORTH something!
And what hurts me the most is the fact that it is getting to the point where I, along with my girlfriends, a very particular one in fact who I will refer to as "E", feel the loneliness and neglect in such an achingly tangible way.
It's not that I'm not grateful for the wonderful blessings in my life, like my good friends, my animals, my family, and MY NEW JOB. But I have been wishing and waiting for a decade, come September 29th of this year, for something that is something. And it's so much harder than I could have imagined because I was under the impression that with college I would have the chance to meet men and date and have boyfriends. I thought the waiting was over and now I realize that there is a chance that men in my age group are just not looking for the same thing as I am. Which means, I might possibly have to wait even more time, which is outrageous because anyone who knows me knows that I am so completely impatient.
If there is one wish I can make for my birthday, it would be this: that I, along with E and S and A can find the love and relationship we search for, and that we can find it this year.
Now that I am done ranting about this outrageousness, I would like to return to big-band era jazz.
This is what I love about this era of jazz: it can evoke smokey, sexy rooms filled with understated longing and romantic connection. Big band jazz can conjure a mixture of exuberance for the future and for peace and progress and an overwhelming sadness of loss and change, all wrapped in a package you either laugh or cry to. In the voices of the men who sang 30s and 40s jazz you can hear the outlines of slicked back side-parted hair, tie, vest, coat with tails and shiny shoes. You can hear a stately and smooth and kind voice; one that searches for the connection of the heart, not the easy piece of ass. These men and women had class.
In the case of Michael Connelly's Detective Harry Bosch, jazz evokes a feeling of connection with times past, of the scattered nature of life. For Harry Bosch this music reveals craftsmanship of musical talent along with a depth of loneliness that is sexy in a depressive and "Maltese Falcon" black and white, serious sort of way.
For these reasons, I appreciate Jazz as an art form, and love and enjoy Big-Band jazz.
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