hot as a sauna
muggy summer air descends
on Manhattan streets
HAIKU
hot as a sauna
muggy summer air descends
on Manhattan streets
SALMAGUNDI
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Slow-motion punches in the face.
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Gin, Television, and Social Surplus.
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As on most Halloweens past, tomorrow night I'll be playing big band jazz at the venerable Theater for the New City's Vintage Halloween Costume Ball, a masquerade party replete with liquor, food, live music, and weird, weird East Village types.
And, setting aside how my lack of trumpet practice time over the past month may leave my chops worse than mangled by the end of a two hour set holding down the solo trumpet chair, I'm primarily concerned about my lack of appropriate apparel. In prior years, the tuxedo dress code left me with little choice on the costume front, aside from toting toy gun and martini glass in my best attempt at Bond chic. This morning however, the bandleader emailed to say that we'd now be free to costume ourselves however our swinging hearts desire. Which leaves me, in short order, to come up with my best attempts at items-already-available-in-closet assembly.
As my backup choice is to wrap a bow and ribbon around my neck, going as god's gift to women, I'd better think fast.