Saturday, June 6, 2009

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I find it awkward and difficult to reconcile my liberal arts college/douche bag identity with Bethlehem. For example, at Porter’s pub last night I experienced this vaguely disconcerting sensation. I think this sensation is exaggerated by my new jeans, which are still unbroken in and rather tight. My old music teacher Dave Smith, who plays saxophone, flute, and guitar, was playing with my friend Jessie Horning’s bf on guitar and two other guys on bass and drums. They played really jammy funk/jazz fusion that reminded me of Miles Davis in the ‘70s. Dave really hammed it up, and took really long extravagant solos on his guitar, although all the solos were long. It devolved into a really loud jam session. Even though I enjoyed it, this dissonant, even experimental music seemed really out of place in a bar that caters to middle-aged people who like micro brews.* It kind of reminded me of how out of place Bill Pullman seems playing free jazz saxophone at a dance club in Lost Highway. Whenever Dave took a sax solo, the people at the table in front of him got up to go to the bar. Also, we noticed that there were a lot of really fat guys.

*Looked at from a different angle, this could be a “stuff white people like” kind of thing (jazz and micro brews, etc.) but I’m not going to go into it.

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