Ain't that a kick in the head...

Just askin’… I am going to write this in English because, for some strange reasons, Romanian has failed me. This time. And because it’s about all things jazz, Sinatraish so…

So, last night it was supposed to be all about jazz. Frank Sinatra reloaded. Ok. I got the point when I bought the ticket, even though the question that is still haunting my cute brains is “Is Frank Sinatra a jazz singer?” Yet, last night, I had a problem with my understanding of jazzy things. Gabriel Farkas & Band are the guys who tried to entertain my ears, through the foggy atmosphere on the stage, the boredom of the drummer and the dancing moves of the main artist. I admit he is a showman and he’s got that thing that makes certain women fall off the chair, but I am so hard to please and I expected the guy to “fly me to the moon” in “my way”, yet he has not managed to “get under my skin”. I would have liked him to tell me to “fly away with him”, to feel like “the girl from Ipanema”, but “somethin’ stupid”, and it wasn’t somethin’ stupid like I love you, was going on and” the way I looked” last night reminded me of a “tender trap”.

Maybe those Christmas songs and snowy “witchcraft” “put my dreams away”. I didn’t want to think of the “stormy weather” at the beginning of December and I was thinking that “I would never smile again” if he didn’t sing about “April in Paris”. But he tried to “talk to me” by dobedoing “strangers in the night” and trying to “get a kick out of me”. Ok, he got it. I am lucky “to be a lady” and a “bad witch” because only bad witches have “Those fingers in my hair/That sly come-hither stare/That strips my conscience bare/It’s witchcraft.” Poor poor men. Wink.

But you know what/ I kind of  liked Gabriel’s mixture of accents. I mean, isn’t it sweet to say “vain” instead of “wine”, “viling” instead of willing” and “Sontono” instead of “Santana”? Just try and you’ll see. And guess what! His ancestors are from Oradea! Talking about “New York New York” and “mak(ing) it anywhere”! It’s Oradea, baby, “my kind of town”. I mean, who hasn’t relatives in Oradea? Oh my God! Me! And the guy actually smoked inside the theatre making the fire department “beg for some kisses”, but, you know what…I’ll let him go with it this time because he praised the beauty of our theatre. And if this is not another reason for going to the theatre, what else could be?

“I’m not afraid” that Gabriel will get angry with me because “the lady” that is moi “is a tramp” and she is quite pretty. I think. And I did it “my way”.

A “tender embrace”.

M.

P.S. Heeey! But the guy with the lights DID his job! Jesus Christ! He did his job and at some point I thought I would die not from elocution but from blindness.