The Blues
Last night, I walked to el Teatro de Tertulia to hear the Big Mama Blues Band. It was a nice half hour walk as the sun was starting to go down and the breezes were picking up. Just before it started, two friends of mine, Dorys and Paula, showed up, spotted me and joined me. The band played blues, but didn’t have a “big mama.” Only one guy sang. He had a good voice and they weren’t too bad. Later, some other friends showed up, sitting near the front. After listening awhile, Dorys and Paula decided to leave. They didn’t like the band much. They said it was sad music. They’re right. Most people here only like salsa and other Latin rhythms, more lively and happy music. So, when they left, I joined the other group and we stayed to the end. Afterwards, we talked awhile, then walked to San Antonio, and then split up, each going our different ways. The weird thing about the band is I recognized the bass player. He goes to my gym. I’ve never talked to him. He’s not too friendly. He comes in reeking of muscle ointment or some strange smell. He lifts weights differently then everyone else. He does fast, little movements, all the while lining up one or two things ahead so he can move back and forth between them. He’s from Italy, but the other members of the band are from Cali. He played decent bass and made the same grimacing expressions as he does when he lifts weights. It was entertaining to watch him. Another fun and interesting evening in Cali.
Greg Ebersole 
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