Blues For Life Your place for blues reviews and news.

First I'm going to propose a question; have you ever been to a place the just might be the coolest place you will ever be? Perhaps this Saturday I found such a place, it's a small little jazz club in Washington DC called Blues Alley. A small step leads you into a small brick room filled with a small stage, with small chairs and tables packed on one side with and a small bar packed on the opposite wall. It is so dark finding you're miniscule chair actually could be a problem for some people. Finally on the small stage there is a rather large beat up grand piano, and it is waiting for a doctor.

This for me was another attempt at a family music outing. For years my parents have taken me and my sister to symphonies and shows which I do appreciate but I must say my tastes reside else ware. Over the past few years it has been my turn to take my family to shows that I like, starting with an outrageously loud Buddy Guy show that left a few complaining of throbbing ears. After a few more shows I still hadn't hit upon finding something everyone liked. Some of the outings everyone liked but finding some music that everyone liked was as if we were trying every remedy in the book but someone always seemed to get sick. We needed a doctor. Luckily for us a 1800s carriage house in a small back alley in George Town in Washington DC had been turned into just the place to find a doctor. So there we went bundled against the cold in possible search of someone who might be able to cure us.

With two hours until we could see the doctor, our tiny table served as a dining room table for the night. A look at the cute menu really told me I was in the right place; it had dishes called Maynard Ferguson's Shrimp Pasta and what I ordered, Dizzy Gillespie's Creole Shrimp (which is fighting for #1 on my list of the best dishes I've had in DC). There were names that only about one out of thirty people my age would know. Then some of the doctor's associates began to mic check and tune up their various instruments. It was time to call the doctor. To give you an idea of how packed a small Blues Alley is Dr. John had to come in through the side door out in the street. His suit was a red with black stripes number that I instantly wanted one of my own, his socks had sharks and cards on them and who cares that is was night his sunglasses were awesome. Doctors do the best treating when they have all their tools and as Dr. John sat at his I felt magically transported to New Orleans. I haven't been to New Orleans since I was 8 or 9 but I swear I was from that city when he played "Iko Iko". There was a whole lot off foot tapping for the next hour to the stupendously performed music by our eccentric entertainer.

When things finally wound down and the show was over at nine we were rushed out because they had to turn the place around for Dr, John's second gig at ten. My dad was able to shake the Doctor's hand and I told the bass player how much I enjoyed his work. My sister had told my mom that she liked the show during the middle of it so I knew that at least she was pleased and since my mom likes everything it became clear everyone really enjoyed our selves. We had been cured. The doctor had done wonders and we left with my sister asking if you can borrow my Dr. John CD; there is hope for her yet.