“Mics, Drinks & Yeast Infections” 9/18/13 J. Roo’s North Haven, CT


Here again at the MECCA of all things entertaining and karaoke…here we go…!

Down bottom: Army green cargo skinny jeans

Up top: A semi-sheer black turtleneck

Rock bottom: Some bad ass dark brown biker boots

The Finisher: Black watch, silver bracelet, silver hoop earrings, really cool classic denim jacket

Hair day: Curly, bouncin’ and behavin’ ūüôā

Ride or Die: Die (rolled solo)

Order up!: My favorite drink, named “No Problem” at a different establishment where I first discovered it, made up of pineapple juice, amaretto and Malibu coconut rum, yessssss!

I arrived somewhere in the area of 10:30pm to this entire other planet that is “J. Roo’s” on this really mild September evening to arguably one of my favorite karaoke spots – I discovered it a few years ago when I lived in that area and have gone on enough weekly excursions to be recognized and embraced by the regulars which I’m sorta still wondering if it’s more¬†scary or endearing…ANYwho…I arrive at around 10.30pm (late for me since karaoke starts at 8pm), walk in and see Patty “The Energizer” – the karaoke DJ in residence, she’s such a sweetheart, always smiling and her energy is infectious, hence “The Energizer” nickname…she’s been providing karaoke to J. Roo’s for years and is well known and loved by the regular crowd that hangs there. I see her and wave on my way in, my greeting is met with her usually bright smile and she goes back to working her music magic with the crowd. I find an empty booth along the back wall, next to my buddy Bill and his full table of friends, as I’m getting settled and giving the waitress my order I hear someone in Bill’s booth refer to me as a “professional” singer. I hardly would consider myself a professional singer but maybe compared to some of the people that they’ve seen sing here…I actually met Bill years ago when I used to be a karaoke DJ in and around the greater New Haven area when he would come and hang out and sing with us – he’s good people and I’m always glad to see him when I show up at Roo’s – at least then I know that there’s SOMEone besides me that can carry a tune…

Taking “attendance” in the room overall, I notice that not too too many regulars are out to play tonight…which is disappointing since they provide material for this here blog but I’m determined to squeeze some value out of the next 90 minutes so I settle in an commence to people watching. The atmosphere is always upbeat yet laid back, with a great mix of all types of people from many walks of life, the average age in the room I could guesstimate to be about 40 years old and to say that this place is diverse is an understatement but ALSO most of it’s charm: you can see bikers, housewives, businessmen & women, blue collar workers ALL in the same room and their only common goal is to HAVE FUN. And that they do well. Bill’s female companion, we’ll call her Ms Bill…leans over the booth to ask me if I’m singing, followed by “Please save us from this sinking ship”… it seemed that everyone that took the mic was singing slow songs and were boring the audience. Ms Bill was also able to point out to me (gotta love her) a blonde middle aged woman that seemed like she needed to be the center of attention – wearing black leggings, a black tank top and SKY HIGH studded platform heels that had to¬†add at LEAST 5-6 inches to her height – add to that her busty frame and she most certainly WAS¬†the center of attention — UNLESS you take in the mystery that is her male companion…on a prior visit to J. Roo’s a friend of mine looked at the man in question and said “He must have a yeast infection because his jeans are SO tight!”…this man’s “uniform”, and I say uniform because the standard formula to his ‘self-perceived sexiness’…seems to be extremely tight jeans – imagine skinny jeans but they don’t look like skinny jeans on this guy – they just LOOK like tight jeans, a western inspired belt, usually a tight mock neck Under Armour short sleeved black shirt, although tonight it was heather grey, some baby cowboy boots – and I say baby boots because his feet are so small, I guess to match up with his diminutive build – he also seems to pride himself on his ‘afro’…think Bob Ross, the guy that used to paint “happy little trees”¬†right in front of your eyes – Google image him if you’re not familiar…so Mr Yeast Infection has a dark afro WITH a shag…and a full beard with mustache attatched…it sorta looks like a hair helmet with a face mask, if you will…comical yet true story…he and the mid-life crisis teetering on those sky high heels¬†that is his female companion seem to be having a good time but she seems quite intoxicated, getting up to dance with zero rhythm, which I attribute to the fact that she’s drunk and NOT because she’s white – I know plenty of white people that have great rhythm- she’s not one of them, though…AND the night surges on…

Up to bat now on the mic¬†are the J. Roo’s Satins…comprised of my buddy Bill and a few of the other gentlemen that are regulars here…they’re known for singing a lot of doo-wop type ditty’s together and they usually sound really good with Bill doing lead vocals, listening to them reminds me that one of the crowd favorites, “Tony the Tiger”, a white haired robust older guy that sings all of the good oldies but goodies (think Frank Sinatra) isn’t here tonight – he’ll certainly be missed!

A few other happenings around…someone celebrating a birthday, a younger drunk couple making spectacles of themselves on the dance floor, hand dancing to a line dance song (OF course…), a group of bikers with matching jackets shows up and the bald guy in the group has a great voice when¬†it was his turn to sing¬†– who knew? Teaches us to never judge a book by its cover!

Last yet not POSSIBLY least, Mr Yeast Infection gets up for his turn on the mic…I don’t recall what song he sang ( I should’ve taken notes but decided to freestyle this one from memory-ugh) but I do remember that it’s a song that is familiar to me – and I also recall that he sang it with EVERY BIT of conviction that he could possibly have mustered¬†up in the 4 and a half minutes it took for him to sing it…by this time, the crowd had thinned out¬†considerably but he still gave it to us as if he was singing in front of thousands at Carnegie Hall, he never disappoints! My evening pretty¬†much complete at that point,¬†it was just after midnight and high time for all good little bloggers to be home in¬†dreamland…maybe the next time I go to the “Roo” for karaoke, he’ll actually drop the mic and walk off – nahhhh….not likely because he, much like his blonde mid life crisis in platform heels, enjoy¬†the attention too much! ;o)


“Me oh Maia” 9/26/11 New Haven, CT Lilly’s Pad/Toad’s Place

“M.J. LIVES!!!” 9/23/11 Branford CT La Luna

“M.J. LIVES!!!” 9/23/11 Branford CT La Luna.

“Shame” 9/23/11 New Haven CT Knickerbocker Golf Club

The Knickerbocker Golf Club is its own lil species of social, here goes nothin’!…

Down bottom: Dark skinny jeans with stretch (forgiver of MANY sins…)

Up top: A multi-colored pink sheer print long sleeved tunic type top with slits at both sides, beading at collarline (kinda bohemian but SO pretty)

Rock bottom: 4 inch heeled pumps, metallic silver peep-toe booties

The finisher: huge silver hoop earrings, lots of bangles in silver, pink, purple, silver wristwatch

Hair day: Good (but could have used a “line”)

Ride or Die: Die (rolled solo)

(Two events in the same evening, therefore the same “get-up”…)

My earliest thoughts of this particular venue were as a child, passing the funny looking building directly across from the city’s police academy that looked strangely built, from rocks, hand fashioned¬†bricks and stones, etc…and knowing that was the place where “the old men” went to hang out, smoke and talk shit to one another, or so I’d heard–as a child. I’d come to learn over the years that the Knickerbocker Golf Club is rich in black history, having been founded in 1944 to afford African American’s a forum with which to play golf and be¬†social with one another.¬†Fast forward 67 years to THIS night:¬†

The thing about the Knickerbocker: It’s not a place that I frequent, especially in years past before the U.S. as a whole became so second-hand smoke conscious and¬†since they were zoned as a private club and would therefore not play by the “no smoking in public places” rules made it easier to steer clear, but not this night. On this night I made an appearance to lend my support and to honor one of my best friends, “Fly Girl, Sr”, who after a turn of extrememy unfortunate medical events ended up having her right leg amputated below the knee. This night at the Knickerbocker was a benefit gathering for her in her time of need as she continues to recover from such an profoundly traumatic lifestyle change. The benefit was to begin at 5 p.m., which I found out by calling Fly Girl, Sr earlier that day. She also let me know that since the¬†ONLY bathroom faclilties were at basement level (sidenote: WTH is WRONG with THAT whole setup?) that her time at her benefit would be limited now that navigating stairs via either wheelchair or crutches proved difficult. I was disappointed with her limited time to be there because she’s HILARIOUS to hang out with, some of the BEST girl-talk, sistagirl moments have been with this chick but I was willing to take whatever time with her I could get…

Backstory: Fly Girl, Sr is a longtime, very dear friend. She and I first met as co-workers back in 1988 and became fast friends, even to this day, through things great and small, good and bad, she is one of the most loyal, steadfast friends that I have and I cherish her deeply. And up until her hospitalization, she bartended on the weekends at the Knickerbocker, so why not have her gathering there, natch!

I arrive solo at the Knickerbocker on a rainy, humid, warm Friday, early evening around 6.30 p.m…..¬†upon entering I was met by two “women of a certain age” sitting near the entryway¬†behind a table with a large jar covered in gold wrapping paper, for “pay what you can” donations to Fly Girl Sr, hmmm….interesting. Makes it easy for the cheapskate, trifling¬†no-good’ers to just fold a dollar, push it into the slot and keepitmovin.com…ok, I know you may be thinking: well, at least they gave, what if they only HAD a dollar? My counter to that is: WHO BENEFITS FROM A SINGLE FREEKIN’ DOLLAR BILL????? …was my thought as I pulled out my wallet, AND a big bill and pushed it into the slot. Entering the “ballroom” of the Knickerbocker, I’m immediately impressed at the obvious effort that was made to decorate: This main room at the Knickerbocker was recently remodeled/renovated with new floors, bar, some paint, etc so it was a nice space but the extra special touches for my friend made it all the more inviting. There were several tables, most with friends, co-workers, family of Fly Girl, Sr, or people that she had served in here time there as barmaid, which she does very well. The tables were adorned with black tablecloths with gold balloons as centerpieces, even the chairs were dressed up with chair covers in black, tied with sheer gold ribbon. There were even servers walking the room with trays of shrimp cocktail to offer to guests, one by one. NICE. At Fly Girl, Sr’s table was her personal table setting, complete with cloth napkin, etc…THIS is good stuff. I stop at her table, which was close to the entrance, hug and kiss her, greet her longtime companion “The Downy Kid” who gets serious¬†“big ups & deep daps” for being ever-present with her throughout the entire ordeal…generally a man of few words sorta guy but he has his moments where I can squeeze a good conversation outta him.¬†I also greet her sister sitting towards the opposite end of the table¬†who I think carries herself with such a calm “sista-girl” type elegance that its both funny and admirable all at once. I make my way through the crowd greeting various people here and there, at one of the only just about empty tables, was “Medicine Woman”, another friend I’d met a few years ago in a line dancing class that another friend, “Bleeding Heart”, who was not in attendance here, was instructing. I was glad to see Medicine Woman, we could catch up on things and enjoy each other’s company all at the same time. AND we were in the very center of the room AT the very front which gave us optimal view of the band. Getting to that…

After I greeted Medicine Woman and got settled in my seat, I was finally able to direct my attention to the band that was playing to the room. “The Organizer” of this shindig originally wanted “Guitar Hero’s” band to perform, since they were CLEARLY the superior band, but since as such they were already booked for another gig, the chosen band for the evening was “The Morris Trent Band” a.k.a. “M.T.B.”…the band was made up of 4 members: Lead guitar, bass guitar, drummer and vocalist. Upon further investigation, this band is funny. They didn’t exactly suck in the grand scheme of ultimate suckage, but they weren’t quite tremendous either, their playing didn’t sound like nails on a chalkboard, so I’m ridin’ this out. After observing for awhile, I noticed: They played songs that pretty much everyone knows, Michael Jackson, even “Let The Good Times Roll”, they sounded far more comfortable with themselves playing bluesy-type stuff than most anything else. The “Female Lead Singer” was a dark-skinned wisp of a girl, she had a good voice but never used it to its full potential, i.e. she played it safe. THE ENTIRE NIGHT. She also didn’t really bother to work her hair situation out, a short cut that was combed back off of her face and sorta half flipped up mohawk style in the back. I know it was generally a bad hair day all the way around because it was a rainy day but ladies, really? Female Lead Singer completed her “look” with some ankle boots¬† (it was 75 degrees that evening…boots???? ok… *shrug* flared stretch pants, a top–which I never really took note of because it was a crop top that she had the body for, but what was fascinating was the navel piercing. It was fascinating to me because hanging very daintily from her belly button was a pair of handcuffs, each dangling from its own chain. My mind immediately began to wander and wonder WHY she chose handcuffs: was she a corrections officer? Was she doing undercover work for the fashion police? Was she just a girl who thought handcuffs was a good idea? I guess I’ll never know. The drummer….Dear Gawd….”G-Unot” took up residence behind his drum kit, dressed in a G-Unit style tank top with color blocked straps in black, gray & white, long hair twists ala Snoop Dogg Style with 2 medallion type pendants hanging from his neck…OMG…does he think he’s in Compton? What type of black magic IS this? Another observation: Female Lead Singer didn’t sing every song with the band, more like every other or every 2 or so, when it was her turn to sing, she came up to the mic and hugged it: stood right up on the mic stand, held the mic IN the stand with both hands, didn’t move from that position, very little facial expression, the only time she moved while there was to turn her back to the audience while someone took a solo. OMG, Performing 101? Ya don’t DO that. She also had very little interaction with the crowd, and just about no stage presence. Nothing really notable to say about the bass player, I think perhaps he was just hangin’ out…when Female Lead Singer wasn’t halfway doing her thing, she retreated back to the band’s table to scribble furiously on a bunch of papers, every single time she sat down…Hmmmm…At this point I decide I need a drink, and not being an alcohol drinker, I step up to wait in line at the bar for my double ginger ale on the rocks only to figure out that after almost 15 minutes patiently waiting, the bar has run out of change. “Errrrriiiiiiiiccccc!!!!!!!!!!!!” Yells the petite light skinned girl behind the bar, “I TOLD YOU I need change! I only have $20s and $50s!” To which the seemingly mild mannered Older Gent Eric replies ” It’s coming”…welp, I wasn’t waiting for THAT DAY to come, and I head down the curved staircase to the basement bar to get my drink. Nothing but a bunch of old school heads are hanging out down there, as this place seems to be a permanent fixture in their lives, similar to men that have “man-caves” in their basements where they go to escape from their wives, children, etc…Getting my drink here is NO problem at all, as “S” is behind the bar. S is a girl that I met through Fly Girl, Sr because they are friends also, so I’m glad to see that its her. We exchange pleasantries while I wait for my ginger ale, I leave a $5 on the bar, speak to a few other people that I know, including “Candyman” and his female girlfriend/companion “Teacher”, who are regular supporters of “The Rohn Lawrence Band” every Monday night at the Lilly’s Pad/Toad’s Place in downtown New Haven. Candyman tells Teacher that I don’t look right here, as in, I look out of place, which I find amusing because you never know WHERE I may end up…we all share a laugh and I say ‘bye’ as I head back upstairs to take my seat and enjoy the evening.

Not long after I arrived, Fly Girl, Sr asked if I would sing a song for her. My knee-jerk reaction was “Nah, I’m chillin'”, because when people find out that¬† you sing, its like when they find out you’re a comedian” “Hey! Say something funny!”, but two things changed my mind: The fact that I figured that “Hell, she just lost her leg, it’s the least I can do” … coupled with the fact that she was after me every few minutes like a bad little kid who won’t stop until she gets what she wants. Ok, she won. IF the band would allow it. I wasn’t excited about singing ANYthing with them backing me up but I figured I could give it the old college try, so I inform Fly Girl, Sr about band etiquette, that the request for me to sing would have to come from her, minutes later I see her sending her niece over to talk with the band and she then heads in my direction to let me know that it’s a go. I then go to Fly Girl, Sr to let her know that she gets her wish and as I turn to go back to my seat, she grabs my wrist, looks at me with her eyes big as saucers and says “You better put her to SHAME.”…this makes me laugh for a couple reasons: the seriousness of her facial expression, the fact that it wasn’t about shaming anyone but about paying tribute to a friend, and lastly, the thought that it wouldn’t have been much effort at all to put that little girl to shame. I think my 2 year old niece could’ve pulled it off while sipping her juicebox and eating Teddy Grahams, ok ok ok, back to the story…

I figure since this band will be backing me up that it would be a good idea to go introduce myself and figure out what they know how to play. So I approach the band leader, introduce myself, he shakes my hand and says “Oh ok, you’re the one who wants to sing?” I reply “Um, NO, I’M the one who came to chill but the guest of honor wants me to sing.” At that we both laugh, after talking with him, I sorta felt empty, like wanting more substance to have been there…bottom line was, the song I’d chosen that was the most appropos “Get Here” by Oleta Adams, he thought he knew it but wasn’t sure if the rest of the band did and anything else I would have thought about they either didn’t know or it had already been done by Female Lead Singer. So OK, I tell him to not worry about it, I’ll sing it acapella, so he nods and tells me that after they return from their break that they will do a few songs then call me up. Ok cool, while I’m waiting I hit the buffet line, typical soul food fare: chicken, string beans, macaroni salad, deviled eggs among other things because amidst all the excitement of observing this band I forget that I hadn’t eaten in several hours. The band reconvenes and the same rhythm continues: Female Lead Singer comes up, sits down, comes up, sits down…finally the band leader approaches the mic and says that there is a special guest vocalist in the house (SURELY he’s not talking about me, I’m just a chick that can carry a tune)…and despite me telling him my name, he still can’t seem to remember it, so I repeat it twice and he still doesn’t hear it until a girl that I know, “Newly Engaged”, gets loud and says my name, for all of Greater New Haven to hear. Good job Newly Engaged, I’m thinking as I stand and walk over to the band. Since the band didn’t know the song I wanted to sing, I had already arranged with “Mr D.J.” to play an instrumental track for the song I wanted to sing so I was all set. I step up to the mic, ask how everyone’s doing and give everyone history about Fly Girl, Sr and my relationship. I tell the crowd that she is one of the most caring, giving, loyal and steadfast people that I know. Queue the opening notes for the song, I manage to belt it out, the crowd applauds and its back to my seat, after I go and hug Fly Girl, Sr and ask her if I’m free now (of any further obligations)….lol…I get her blessing and go back happily to my seat, but just before I do, at¬†Fly Girl, Sr’s table was a beautiful tray stocked full of mini cupcakes which when asked, Fly Girl, Sr said that they weren’t good, of the person who made them, who is a bakery owner, so of course, needing to know for myself, I cast my chewing gum aside, pick one up and take a bite—then immediately spit that bite back into the nearest “icky food” receptacle which in this case was a napkin. Horrible. The cake itself tasted like cornbread, grainy and red– I’m guessing the baker’s attempt at Red Velvet….No Bueno. Where’s my gum? I want it back…Finally the evening is winding up and a mic is coming in Fly Girl, Sr’s direction which she passes to her sister to say a few words FOR HER, which sister does from a heartfelt place. Meanwhile, I’m giving Fly Girl, Sr the “Eye of The Tiger” speech, like “A lot of people came to support you tonight, the LEAST you can do is say a few words in the way of a ‘thank you’ or SOMEthin’, stop playin'”…See, our Fly Girl, Sr, despite her “ball of thunder”, “larger than life”¬†persona is really something of an emotional softie at heart and was not wanting to cry or otherwise make a spectacle of herself, she finally took the mic, with my encouragement, and was able to do a great job in the way of thank-you’s without a single tear falling, GOOD JOB Fly Girl, Sr!!!! In the meantime, quite a few people complimented me on the song I sang¬†which I accepted graciously and as humbly as possible because hey, no matter HOW good you think you are, at whatever it is, there’s ALWAYS someone better. I think perhaps Female Lead Singer saw that memo…probably immediately¬†after I was done with my song. Maybe she may have been better off dropping the mic and walking out? We’ll never know but kudos to her for sticking it out… *wink*

All the world’s a stage! 9/24/11

Welcome to “dropsthemicandwalksout”–my¬†“almost real time” blog covering all of my experiences: good, bad, ugly & indifferent while going to hang out at live music shows…I’ve been a fan of live music as long as I can remember, since my father was leader of a band when I was a child, he gave us huge appreciation for all things music, as a result I consider myself a very musically¬†diverse person and therefore have attended a lot of¬†live music shows on the local level–“SUPPORT LOCAL MUSIC”!!!!!¬†This blog serves as a journal so to speak of my life & times at¬†the events that I attend. I’ve said for years that the comical things and characters that I encounter deserved to be immortalized and here we are…my love affair with music continues here…ever wanted to be a voyeur? Here’s your shot! (try not to stare too hard…) ūüėČ

p.s. Here’s to coming across the most random, comically rich things that make you wanna “drop the mic and walk out”… CHEERS!

“M.J. LIVES!!!” 9/23/11 Branford CT La Luna

My evening at La Luna commences on a very humid, warm, rainy Friday evening…

Down bottom: Dark skinny jeans with stretch (forgiver of MANY sins…)

Up top: A multi-colored pink sheer print long sleeved tunic type top with slits at both sides, beading at collarline (kinda bohemian but SO pretty)

Rock bottom: 4 inch heeled pumps, metallic silver peep-toe booties

The finisher: huge silver hoop earrings, lots of bangles in silver, pink, purple, silver wristwatch

Hair day: Good (but could have used a “line”)

Ride or Die: Die (rolled solo)

Order up! Nachos: A pile of dry chips, minimal cheese melted in to form an almost unbreakable cement-like structure and buffalo wings that saved the day, served with bleu cheese that was wonderfully chunky with bleu cheese crumbles and cold crisp celery…

I arrived alone at approximately 9.20p.m. to find “The Rahsaan Langley Project” band in full swing, compromised of a keyboard player, drummer, lead guitar and vocals…this¬†was my first experience at this venue which is basically a restaurant that serves Italian fare so I was anxious to scope things out: There were several people holding court at the bar, far fewer in the area that the band was playing that was directly adjacent to the bar but hey, the night’s still young, right? SO as per my usual, I stroll in, find a good table to post up at (note: a “good table” must meet certain specific criteria: it must have optimal view of 1. the band in question, 2. must be able to see everyone in the room/dance floor¬†for optimal people-watching and finally, 3. must be able to see the entrance, i.e. who’s coming and going — that’s all part of the build-up!)…and I hang out and wait for something “intriguing & bloggable”…my wish was granted when not long after I settled in with a Coke and a late night menu, I notice the¬†vocalist of the band “Frontman R.L.” is¬†telling the crowd that he’s feeling silly while he’s working hard at¬†keeping the energy for the evening up and pumping up the crowd¬†while singing and being interactive with fans even though everyone there seems to want to chill (like me) at first…¬†a gentleman of “a certain age” wearing sneakers, a fitted baseball cap (WHO does that at his age??? anyway…) and a throwback sports jersey gets up and reports front and center to the middle of the dance floor, minus a partner because HEY, when you’re rocking swagg like that, WHO needs a partner? He starts snaking, pop-locking, and gyrating all over the place—even dropping it low…ok, mildly entertaining…UNTIL a woman at his table who I assume was “with him” joined him and they started doing something “lambada-esque” with each other. My night JUST got a little better…then enter the blonde woman “of a certain age”, we’ll call her “Twinkle Toes”, ole T.T. was another solitary dancer from the bar side but was clearly dertermined to not go it alone, since she made it a point to try & get EVERYone that she DIDN’T know up to dance…I guess her friends hanging out at the bar were exempt? Her diligent efforts were soon rewarded as the band crashed into a rousing rendition of “Jump”by Van Halen, kudos to the band for their musical diversity, that resulted in a few more willing dancers to hit the floor…and so was the ebb and flow of the evening–because I’m still posted up quietly enjoying myself and my people watching–when a familiar tune began to play: “Do I Do” by Stevie Wonder…”OH SNAP! I LOVE THIS SONG!!!!” was my last thought as I contemplated whether or not I felt like “chair dancing” or actually getting up and bustin’ a move when all of a sudden the band’s frontman R.L. stops singing after the first few words and says “Wait a minute! IIIII know who sings this song!!!” and looked DIRECTLY at me and calls me to the stage while introducing me to the small but mighty crowd…well I’ll be DAMNED…so I take the stage, belt it out, crowd seemed to like it so I’m all good, return to my seat and THEN my might got catapulted into people watching heaven: “Frontman R.L.” then introduces his nephew and invites him to come do a song as the band launches into the heavy immediately recognizable beat of “Billie Jean”: “Nephew” is tall, light skinned, with almost shoulder-length dark brown hair that I think was blow dried and pressed and he wore it M.J. style–only without the “wet look”, he completed his look with a black Ed Hardy tee shirt, stone washed jeans, a “smedium” black jacket and black dress shoes and really did bear a very interesting resemblance to his “Frontman” uncle…I can hardly contain my excitement while I watch “Nephew” sing, dance & gesticulate with a very decidedly M.J. vibe–and he FEELS it, every BIT of it–I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone who seemed damn near possessed by M.J.’s spirit like this kid–he most definitely got an “E” for effort and really was the high point of the night…although he and his female companion got negative points for standing directly in front of my table very effectively blocking my view¬†to take video footage of the band via cellphone for more than a couple minutes, and at one point the female friend of M.J. impersonator “Nephew”¬†had her behind resting on my table while I was eating. UGH…WHY do people just not get it? The fact that it was not a HUGE booty wasn’t quite the issue as much as the lack of etiquette behind it. DID I launch into “YOU’RE RUDE” mode? Interestingly enough my curiosity at how long this was to go on before they “GOT IT” and went back to their own table was overruled– instead of ¬†my “Miss Correctol” rules of etiquette shining assertively through…wasn’t long before I got my answer when they both sat down. AT MY TABLE. What was wrong with THEIR table? It was RIGHT next to the stage and mine was in front and to the right…here we go…FINALLY after what seemed like hours, they disappear away and I pull both chairs in to the table…hint? My hard work paid off as they didn’t return to my table but did enjoy the rest of the evening until it was time to go. So I’m noticing that there ended up to be quite a diverse mix of dancers on the floor, some black, some white, ALL having a good time to all genres of music. Shout out to the white overweight couple with the salt & pepper gray hair that sat for the first half of the evening looking rather perplexed at the band, at least the “husband” in the pair seemed to have a tad more musical instinct than “wife” who sat staring at the band with a sort of catatonic-like gaze…maybe she had “the itis”….or just maybe…she felt the need to “drop the mic and walk out”…

“Feelin’ froggy? Thumbs Up!” 9/21/11 Southington CT The Groggy Frogg


My time at the Groggy Frogg commences on a warm overcast evening…

Down bottom: Flared jeans with fat stitching and a very interesting “wash” & brown leather belt

Up top: A striped Tommy Bahama dress shirt, underneath: A white tee shirt with an image printed on the front (we’ll get to that later…)

Rock bottom: Brown leather strappy 4 inch platform pumps

Bag lady status: White leather Coach bag with brown trim and silver hardware

The finisher: Large hoop earring with charms, oversized orange watch, various bangles

Hair day: Decent

Ride or Die: Die (no accomplices)

Order up!: “Sweet Heat” wings, served up very saucy with bleu cheese, they were, well….sweet but with a tad more heat than was necessary, I could have done with a lil less, still tasty nevertheless. Disappointed at the lack of celery, though…

SO ok…I get to “The Frogg” at approximately 8.15p, just in time for the “Timmy Maia Experience” to rock out at 8.30p, the band got a little of a late start but hey, I’m in it for the long haul, so as per usual, I select a table and post up…The Frogg is a little bar/grill tucked away in the seemingly sleepy town of ¬†Southington, CT. THe floors are hardwood, and the overhead beams are adorned with–what else?? Frogs, some stuffed, some metal fabrications, some toys, ALL most definitely frogs. Point made, although I DID notice that none of them appeared especially groggy…lmao..oh well–anyway…there aren’t too many people in The Frogg on this Wednesday evening, again its early so we’ll just hang right on out and see what the rest of the night brings! Scattered folks surrounding the bar, in the back by the patio door there’s a table full of just past middle-aged women that we’ll call the “Golden Girls”, who seemed to be engrossed in very riveting conversation. Not thirsty or hungry at this point since I had had dinner before I came, on to the evening’s festivities: The band, very skillfully lead by frontman “The Human Jukebox” didn’t waste any time with the slow, easy listening tunes, they kicked things off rather quickly, handling a bunch of high energy, up tempo tunes with expert precision…this is good…as I’m more in the mood to chill rather than dance, because I’m in practical joke mode, I’m content for the moment. See, my main purpose in life at The Frogg this night is to prank the Human Jukebox, who attended a party for a¬† mutual musician friend and got a lil too “wavy” for his own good, which resulted in him posing with 3 older women for one of the many pics that I took of that night, with a human female thumb belonging to one of them casually hanging out¬†in his¬†his mouth…lmao…so me, being the JERK that I am, took that very picture, cropped the women out so as to keep the focus on “the thumb” and had that image printed on the tee-shirt I was wearing at that moment–my plan was to wait until he was singing to do the big reveal, for no reason¬†other than shock value/inside joke purposes–unfortunately it wasn’t time yet, things were too slow, the band while churning out the hits was still a tad too mellow–and so was I, despite the fact that the long sleeved dress shirt I wore over the coup de gras prank tee was HOT…but I”m determined to troop it out in the name of a good laugh…about 30 minutes after I get settled in and the band starts, the room begins to fill up with blue jean clad partiers, varying in age from the damn near geriatric (it was the white hair & orthopaedic sandals that gave her away)…to the very young, which brings me to the “what the hell” moment of the evening: In the front door walks a “man of a certain age” with a very young man who I assumed was at least 21 as everyone was being carded at the door…after greeting a few people, the pair both dressed in jeans and tee shirts walks over to my table, “Annoying Old Dude” then asks if its ok for he and his young buddy (who I later find out is his cousin) to sit, I nod yes and smile, since I was the only one sitting at a 4 person table, it’s nice to be nice right? No good deed ever goes unpunished: after a few mins, “A.O.D” starts watching me, and its CREEPY…I’m sitting there minding my business, casually tapping my finger on the table in time with the music and “A.O.D.” begins to mimick my every movement, including the way I’m sitting and bopping my head….Dear God: WHYYYYY ME???????? I then am thinking that SURELY this guy must be drunk, or buzzed at the very least because WHAT would make him think it’s ok to piss a black woman off who’s been nice to you and is otherwise minding her business? I decide to take the high road and try to ignore him, which works for a few seconds until he realizes he’s being ignored which somehow makes him WANT to be acknowledged, some sort of jacked up version of reverse psych 101…I see him moving in my peripheral vision because I’M STILL IGNORING him…he reaches out his hand to try and touch my arm–OK, NOW I’ve had enough. You DON’T get to touch me, you don’t KNOW me. Hell…even a lot of the people I DO know can’t touch me, lmao…so I move my arm outside of his reach and cast him a look that might have put him 6 feet underground if it was attatched to any sort of mystical powers…he finally (thank God) takes the hint and leaves the table to go talk to a group that just walked in: REPRIEVE at LAST! As he leaves, the most unexpected thing happens: “Young Cousin” who had come with “A.O.D.” leans over to me , smiles and says “I’m sorry about my cousin.” Wow! Manners! I could see that the poor lil guy was sorta embarrassed by “A.O.D.’s” antics so I gave him a smile with “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault, you shouldn’t be apologizing for him but I appreciate it!” And so the night continues, I’m anxious like a kid waiting for Christmas morning to do my big reveal of the shirt I had made especially for “The Human Jukebox”, I decide to hang out and wait for the second set to start to put my plan into action…

After about a 30 minute break, the band gets back up on stage and kicks things into 2nd gear…at the beginning of the second song, I start unbuttoning the long sleeved shirt over the prank shirt, take it off and put it on the back of my chair, hop off my stool and stand up. I FEEL LIKE A SUPERHERO. I’m so excited I can’t stop grinning as I move towards the dance floor, the band is playing, “The Human Jukebox” is front and center singing his heart out, I take the dance floor by storm but I’m only dancing facing the band so that he can see my handiwork…so I’m dancing, I’m the only one on the floor which is even better, his eyes are closed, he doesn’t see me yet, ok cool, I got patience & the song is good so I’m just hanging out, dancing about 4 feet away facing him and grinning like an idiot…FINALLY he opens his eyes and glances my way: NOTHING. Then I realize that its the stage lights that are blocking his view, so I dance in place for a few seconds longer and move a little closer, he looks again right when he’s about to sing his next note….and HE SEES IT!!!! HE SEES IT! Which made him immediately speechless…songless…noteless…as he stopped singing and put his head down and laughed. HARD….then he turns his back to the crowd, goes to the back wall of the stage and puts his head down, laughing hysterically. The rest of the band was in on the joke and was laughing as soon as I hit the dance floor…The Human Jukebox FINALLY recovers from laughing, returns to the mic and says “WWWWOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!”, and puts his hand up for a high five. GOT HIM!!!! MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!! It didn’t matter that no one else but the band got the joke, that’s what “inside” jokes are about, right??? I danced around a few more minutes, we’ll call it a “victory dance”…then returned to my table, tickled that I was able to pull off my mission without a hitch. As coincidence would have it, “The Thumb” just happened to be in attendance that night, The Human Jukebox introduced me to her and showed her the shirt, to which she said “Hey that’s MY THUMB!!!! I WANT THAT SHIRT!!!!” to which I replied “Good luck, you’re on your own there!” After “The Big Reveal”, there really was nothing notable that went on in its wake, besides the rain that was now falling fairly heavily outside, just in time to go home….CLEALRY the best part of the night was watching my friend “The Human Jukebox” when he “dropped the mic and walked out”….of the limelight, at least for a few seconds, to recover from the reprise of what was a pretty wild night. Cheers!