Testimony

Friday we ended up at a JazzFest venue purely by accident, attempting to escape the hordes of tourists wearing matching nylon tracksuits and carrying digital cameras larger than my head.

No matter where we went for a drink there would be crowds of water-proofed people, speaking in southern drawls and asking how much the beer cost "in American." We had to find refuge.

Annoyed half to death, we paid five bucks each to get into a bar and listen to the Elmer Ferrer Band just because there wasn't a tourist in site. What happened next is the closest thing I've had to a religious experience.

We were just in time for the band's second set. Surrounded by people ranging in age from 19 to 79 (with walker) I took my place on the outside of the dance floor -- skeptical.

The band looked too young to be playing jazz, and the lead singer appeared to be a 15 year old skateboarder. My girlfriend took her place directly in front of the band, and I had a moment's panic the band would be delayed so that she and the drummer, bass player, guitarist or lead skateboarder could run away together to the supply closet.

My friend likes her musicians, but I've never been into the whole groupie scene. If I wanted to pay for somebody to spend all day sleeping and using me for food and one-sided affection, I would get a cat. Despite my friend being hotter than the sun, the band just started to play.

And oh my dear God.

When that band broke out the Miles Davis funk the speakers blew every woman's clothes off in the bar. The dude with the walker was doing the electric slide and a woman wearing an outfit straight out of the Mom Section in Sears was dropping her ass so low to the ground she's probably still down there.

When the band struck up a slowed down weeper about a lost dog the entire place swayed in unison. When they picked it up again we were stomping and clapping to the same rhythm until our hands and feet were aching, but we called them back for three encores anyway.

And then it was over. When the lead singer stepped off the stage the crowd parted like he was a tattooed Moses, most of us suddenly too shy to do anything but smile and duck our heads in awe.

I'm still not into musicians, but if any member of that band ever needs a space on my couch or food from my fridge I would give it, because for at least an hour, they made the lame walk, the blind see and the white people dance. Amen.