Upset, upset, sadness, sadness
Friday, February 29th, 2008It was a nice gig last night; I chatted quite a bit to two of the American guys who have been coming to the club fairly regularly, and who are going back to Ohio today. I will especially miss B, a (I’m guessing) 50-something pacifist, actor and lover of standards, who’s been propping up the bar just about every night. He said: “I’m really going to miss just being able to wander down the hall and hear great live jazz every night.” Aww.
So, a lovely, friendly night… which then all turned horribly, horribly sour at the end.
Something happened, and I’m afraid I won’t - can’t - explain here exactly what it was; but suffice it to say that it was horrible, nasty, unbelievably hurtful, highly personal (as in, directed very specifically at me), and came a massive shock.
It left me shell-shocked and upset and questioning just about everything.
My first instinct was to call home; to call my parents, or a good friend, or B.
But then I realised the person to call was T.
Who responded in his usual, wonderful, supportive way: telling me how well-liked - no, loved - I am by the people here; saying that this was just one jealous individual. He then sent L to come and find me, who also helped enormously. These guys are like my big brothers out here, and I don’t know what I’d do without their care and support.
Maybe at later date I will explain what happened; or maybe not. But I just wanted to explain why I might not post anything particularly interesting today, or respond to all your comments right now, given how I’m feeling.
That said: I woke up to a text message from R asking me if I was free at lunchtime to have a little rehearsal with him, because he’d like to do some recording with me while I’m here. My first instinct was to say no, and to hibernate. But then I thought: this is exactly the sort of thing I need to do when something bad happens. And so I got up, jumped into the pool (actually, that wasn’t strictly speaking the next direct step), and now sit here in the Business Centre, awaiting my pick-up.
In short: I’m not going to let the bastards - or rather: bastard - get me down. And the show must go on. And all that.
