Well, this might be goodbye for a while. Im going to the Rockwell tonight to see Jeff Goldblum perform jazz. Im sure you all know what this means: The flickering candlelight casts an ethereal glow on the patrons of the jazz club. The residents of the City of Angels are sipping cocktails and whispering excitedly; Goldblum will soon be here. Women in their finest furs and costume jewelry are reapplying lipstick and laughing coquettishly at the jokes the men tell- little do the men know its all in practice for Goldblum. When he strides onto the stage the energy of the room erupts into a frenzy of clapping and whistling, and then immediately transforms into excited murmuring as Goldblum raises his hand for silence. He locks eyes with a young lady at VIP table #72, but not, like, TOO young because he is kinda old. A brief but beautiful image flashes before both sets of eyes: a little home in southern Italy, clear blue skies, and espresso each morning at Bar Betty.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 17:01:05 +0000
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