All That Jazz

I like my jazz like I like my men: smooth, irresistible, and above all, cool.

Everything is cooler with jazz.  For example, say you've been waiting months to go to a happening jazz place in downtown DC that plays classic jazz and serves wholesome southern cookin'.  Say you arrive to said happening jazz place and the house is packed, you can't get in.  That's cool.

It's cool because you happen to be with a cool jazz aficionado, who would not let a packed house deter you from a night full of jazz coolness.  So he takes your crew to the coolest place in town: Twins Jazz, the kind of place that reeks of coolness: cozy space, twinkling lights, good food, great music.  It's everything you could want in a cool hangout, almost as cool as The Max.

We listened to the cool jazz styles of the David Gibson Quartet, and all the players were cool because...well, they were all playing jazz.

The  nerdy trombone player: cool.

The Filipino sax player: double cool.

The piano player that had an odd twitch and a huge grin: a little odd but still cool because he was playing jazz, with a backwards newsie hat (cool).

Never being able to see the drum player to take a picture?  Yes, still cool.

Jazz just makes things cool.

It makes this sweater vest cool.

It makes eating fried plantains dipped in hot sauce cool.

It makes trying Ethiopian food for the first time cool.  By the way, a jazz club whose menu is described as American, Ethiopian, and Caribbean Cuisine = cool.

It makes friends cool.  It makes sisters cool.

It makes people who don't have rhythm but still dance cool.

It even makes pictures of my water glass cool.

People who play jazz even have cool names, like Dizzy and Cannonball and Muggsy and Coltrane.  But no one does it like the King of Cool himself:

And hey, if you don't like jazz, that's cool too.  Because with jazz, it's all cool, man.  It's all cool.