This vacation has not been to come over to Perth to party. It has been to do some so
ul searching and to see family. But a girl has to get out sometime. One of my sister's favorite venues is a quaint little jazz club tucked away in a semi-industrial area, hidden behind a workshop. Called the Jazz Cellar, it has been owned and run for the last 20 years by the trombone player of the Corner House jazz band. He opened it because it was his passion. The Jazz Cellar does not serve alcohol but what people do is bring their own drinks and food. A picnic in a club.
ul searching and to see family. But a girl has to get out sometime. One of my sister's favorite venues is a quaint little jazz club tucked away in a semi-industrial area, hidden behind a workshop. Called the Jazz Cellar, it has been owned and run for the last 20 years by the trombone player of the Corner House jazz band. He opened it because it was his passion. The Jazz Cellar does not serve alcohol but what people do is bring their own drinks and food. A picnic in a club. The entrance 
to the Jazz Cellar is an old British telephone box. Very cool, very retro. For those Dr. Who fans, it was like entering the Tardis, except the Tardis was a blue police box and not a phone box. Nonetheless, something mysterious was bound to happen entering into a Tardis-like device.
to the Jazz Cellar is an old British telephone box. Very cool, very retro. For those Dr. Who fans, it was like entering the Tardis, except the Tardis was a blue police box and not a phone box. Nonetheless, something mysterious was bound to happen entering into a Tardis-like device.The trumpet player, Don, lost half his tongue due to cancer, went through physiotherapy to learn how to speak again, and is now back again as the singer and trumpet player as well as comedian of the band. At the first intermission, Do
n, told audience, "Time for a wee and a smoke." Hilarious.
n, told audience, "Time for a wee and a smoke." Hilarious.Another fixture of the place is an old guy, Robin, around 80yrs old who loves to jive. OK, a slow jive and his MO is to ask females in the audience to dance with him. It was lovely to watch him twirl the ladies around. My mother was asked much to my sister's and my amusement as she has no rythym. My sister and I watched the younger generation dance who thought they had rythym but looked like car crashes about to happen. Watching the gyrations of drunk youth is like watching a drunk behind the wheel of a car; jerky movements trying to navigate around corners only to end up crashing. We even witnessed a few hip checks to the saxaphones that were standing by the sax player. Ouch!!!
My mother and her boyfriend had a blast; dancing, giving the band a hard time, singing...
The old guy, Robin, had now worked his way around to me and asked me to dance. Now my mother may not have rythym but I do. I have no idea where I inherited this trait from but I make up that moving and gyrating hips is my thing. You gotta love honesty as he said after the first dance, "I can usually pick out pick out ladies but you escaped my notice. You sure do have rythym." He didn't ask another lady to dance. I was his dance partner all night and had a blast. He even went up to my mother at the end of the night and said, "Tell the young blonde to be at the Yokine jazz club on Tuesday night." I was fascinated that he thought he had an "in" or perhaps I need to visit a cosmetic surgeon on my return to the US.
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