Silence in Oriphino Jazz Pub

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So, it’s not a Jazz Pub, but it often was full of 9-15 musicians all in one room, sharing the twinkle of liquor, the smell of smokes and japanese food. It just so happened that they were about to move that week.

I met my Japanese Neighbor, Mr. Sacho years before when I slipped a letter through under their door. I could not bring myself, a stranger, to ask to come in and listen to them play Jazz. But I had spent more afternoons outside listening to them play. I could not say what songs they were playing, but I was sure it was Jazz. What with all the trumpets and the trombones, the electric bass guitar, the pianist who had by coincidence had the same surname as mine, the Growling Drummer who reminded me of Louis Armstrong, the singing ladies who were Mr. Sacho’s Secretaries, the percussions which looked like bowling pins with rough edges, and the Japanese Man’s favorite instrument, the Saxophone.

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There were three of which he had, and one which he owned for his entire life. He both had the Soprano, the Alto and the Tenor, but it was the biggest that he had loved the most. Getting back to the Sax Man, he had been delighted to have a neighbor who enjoyed his type of music. Once, he even invited me to learn to play his saxophone, the biggest which I would always get a sore thumb from. After jamming with his entire group, he would all ask them to eat from his table. Everyone would get a bottle or two of beer and a sip of liquor from Mr. Sacho. So, it’s not a Jazz Pub, but it often was full of    9-15 musicians all in one room, sharing the twinkle of liquor, the smell of smokes and japanese food. It just so happened that they were about to move that week. If he had the whim to do so, he would try to teach me the basics of the saxophone, or ask me to play with the band if one the key players were gone. Sometimes he would even want me to bring several pieces, usually the saxophone, home with me. I was just across the street, and he’d want it so much that I learn his intrument which I could practice all afternoon when I get back from school. I declined politely since I was not musically inclined like my siblings and could not the difference between the subtle changes in sound. I COULD, however FEEL the way the musician’s play their music.

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In their own words, a musician had to be horny and imagine as if they were making love with their instrument. I could go on with the details but I choose not too. *laughs* There were a lot of rowdy jokes and boisterous laughter, i’m not sure which ones the other neighbors complain from, the Jazz or the laughter. I would roar, if I could, like the drummer especially when they sing ..mmm.. Louis Armstrong with the Umph! I can only sigh in memory how it was. I remember my siblings who were more musically inclined to note the subtle, which to me was, errors in their playing. But, it didn’t matter much. It is a different experience all together to watch the musicians’ reactions as they play with the Umph!, how it felt like when the lead trumpet would “riff” and how the bass player would …mmm…. *laughs I especially loved the trombone solo with the Pink Panther song. I can feel the chills in my spine and would love to hear from them again.

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But, it is sad, that it was only when they were about to move that I was able to get a camera with the three big capital letters. *laughs* I was not able to get hold of pictures from which I could always look at from a photo album, but I had carried often the memory of those moments where I could literally feel the bump in my heart wish that I could play with them, and I did, even if it was only the bowling pin-like percussion. I loved how, I could not, remove, that smile, when, I, had, played, with them (Comma for Intended Drama). Think of Po the Fat Panda in Kung Fu Panda when he had that smile when he was in the middle of his idols. And we could hear him say in sloooow motion “I looove yooou Guuuys”. Well, I too had the same feeling even if it was that one moment. I felt like a child in their company. Like the sense of child-likeness or child-minded. I’m sorry, haha, i think music is just one of those cases, well several if you do know me, that I do. hahaha. Or maybe just genuine enthusiasm. 😀

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The percussion box – D300

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Banjo – D300

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The Percussion Box II – D300

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Oriphino Dining Table – D300

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Liquor Bar – D300

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Kanji Text – D300

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Piano and Drum Set – D300

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Before Moving – D300

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Side Note – D300

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Moving Out II – D300

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Silence in Oriphino – D300

By Sukoshiyama

Dated 19 April 2013

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