He looked like a Negro Hassel.
His big brown eyes were concerned with sadness, and the singing of songs slowly and with long, thoughtful pauses.
But in the second chorus he got excited and grabbed the mike and jumped down from the bandstand and bent to it.
To sing a note he had to touch his shoetops and pull it all up to blow, and he blew so much he staggered from the effect, and only recovered himself in time for the next long slow note.
"Mu-u-u-usic pla-a-a-a-a-a-ay!" He leaned back with his face to the ceiling, mike held below.
He shook, he swayed.
Then he leaned in, almost falling with his face against the mike.
"Ma-a-a-ake it dream-y for dan-cing" – and he looked at the street outside with his lips curled in scorn, Billie Holiday's hip sneer – "while we go ro-man-n-n-cing" – he staggered sideways – "Lo-o-o-ove's holi-da-a-ay" – he shook his head with disgust and weariness at the whole world – "Will make it seem" – what would it make it seem? everybody waited; he mourned – "O-kay."
The piano hit a chord.
"So baby come on just clo-o-o-ose your pretty little ey-y-y-y-yes" – his mouth quivered, he looked at us, Dean and me, with an expression that seemed to say, Hey now, what's this thing we're all doing in this sad brown world? – and then he came to the end of his song, and for this there had to be elaborate preparations, during which time you could send all the messages to Garcia around the world twelve times and what difference did it make to anybody? because here we were dealing with the pit and prunejuice of poor beat life itself in the god-awful streets of man, so he said it and sang it,
"Close – your – " and blew it way up to the ceiling and through to the stars and on out – "Ey-y-y-y-y-y-es" – and staggered off the platform to brood.
He sat in the corner with a bunch of boys and paid no attention to them.
He looked down and wept.
He was the greatest.
Dean and I went over to talk to him. We invited him out to the car.
In the car he suddenly yelled,
"Yes! ain't nothin I like better than good kicks!
Where do we go?"
Dean jumped up and down in the seat, giggling maniacally.
"Later! later!" said the tenorman.
"I'll get my boy to drive us down to Jamson's Nook, I got to sing.
Man, I live to sing.
Been singin 'Close Your Eyes' for two weeks – I don't want to sing nothin else.
What are you boys up to?"
We told him we were going to New York in two days.
"Lord, I ain't never been there and they tell me it's a real jumpin town but I ain't got no cause complainin where I am.
I'm married, you know."
"Oh yes?" said Dean, lighting up.
"And where is the darling tonight?"
"What do you mean?" said the tenorman, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.
"I tole you I was married to her, didn't I?"
"Oh yes, oh yes," said Dean.
"I was just asking.
Maybe she has friends? or sisters?
A ball, you know, I'm just looking for a ball."
"Yah, what good's a ball, life's too sad to be ballin all the time," said the tenorman, lowering his eye to the street.
"Shh-eee-it!" he said.
"I ain't got no money and I don't care tonight."
We went back in for more.
The girls were so disgusted with Dean and me for gunning off and jumping around that they had left and gone to Jamson's Nook on foot; the car wouldn't run anyway.
We saw a horrible sight in the bar: a white hipster fairy had come in wearing a Hawaiian shirt and was asking the big drummer if he could sit in.
The musicians looked at him suspiciously.
"Do you blow?"
He said he did, mincing.
They looked at one another and said,
"Yeah, yeah, that's what the man does, shhh-ee-it!"
So the fairy sat down at the tubs and they started the beat of a jump number and he began stroking the snares with soft goofy bop brushes, swaying his neck with that complacent Reich-analyzed ecstasy that doesn't mean anything except too much tea and soft foods and goofy kicks on the cool order.
But he didn't care.
He smiled joyously into space and kept the beat, though softly, with bop subtleties, a giggling, rippling background for big solid foghorn blues the boys were blowing, unaware of him.
The big Negro bullneck drummer sat waiting for his turn.