Lizzie, don't forget to bring your axe...

Late Saturday afternoons can be a little lazy, football season over, replaced with a thousand hoops games of varying importance. So grab that unfinished memoir, put on some good background music and chill.

Or, if you feel adventuresome, trot down to Cafe Nine in New Haven. Each Saturday afternoon, The Nine holds a jazz jam hosted by a revolving group of area musicians, whereby a core house band is provided and anyone is invited to bring his/her axe along and sit in. Saturday's jam was to be hosted by Guitar George Baker. So, with a UConn Huskies (bastards, not bitches) victory over the Providence College Friars at the Dunkin' Donuts Center (a misnomer since Dunkin' Donuts do not have centers) secured, I scooted down to The Nine to check out the situation. My main reason was to introduce myself to Mr. Baker, who will be performing with his band at this year's Southington Rotary Mardi Gras Night at Anthony Jack's (see below). I caught a set of his at the Chowder Pot in Branford and spoke with him on the phone regarding the Mardi Gras gig, but I had not met him personally.

I arrived in the middle of the first set, finding George up on the small stage with a drummer, bassist and saxophonist playing some very tasty jazz standards. The bar was pretty full with an interesting mix of old and young, listening attentively, heads abobbin'. I had tried to entice the Reet to accompany me, but no go, and my co-chair Johnny Gumbo declined because he was "right in the middle of something." My partner at the bar was a very intoxicated young man who had a few crumpled dollar bills and would occasionally coax a small glass of beer out of the barkeep. He was also trying to charm the two ladies on the other side of him, with little success.

The session reached its first break, so I approached the stage to introduce myself. George, exiting the stage with the assistance of a cane, recognized my name immediately (go figure!) and seemed quite enthusiastic about doing the Mardi Gras Night, inquiring about the food and tickets for additional members of his entourage. He said that his regular band, The George Baker Experience, which will play the event, included today's sax player. And he proudly showed me the Downbeat Magazine three-star review of his newly issued CD, Mojo Lady. We talked about the problems facing New Orleans' rebuilding, George noting that the black population gave the city its flavor and that tourism provided 80% of its revenues and created the jobs.

Back on stage again, the band hosted a number of interesting musician characters:
-a 70+ cowboy vocalist (in full cowboy attire) doing credible versions of Stormy Monday and On Broadway
-a soccer-dad looking sax player who blew some pretty good stuff
-a thin, long-haired forty-something hippy who I had pegged as a guitar player, but who instead pulled out a TROMBONE!!!!!

It's getting late, so I wave goodby to George and head down State Street to my car, en route passing my bar buddy sharing a joint with the boys on somebody's front steps.

Cafe Nine holds a blues jam each Sunday afternoon.