“Those looking for a night of sophisticated funk might consider going to Jazz Minds.
It’s a music Lounge & Bar, complete with Miles Davis memorabilia, dimmed lighting, and sounds that send you to New Orleans. Sure, the fried chicken is rubbery and the beer is watered down, but the ambience itself is unforgettable: imagine yourself walking into the lounge where an open floor seduces you to dance; this floor then leads to a humble stage, large enough to be distinct, but small enough to give spectators a surprisingly intimate experience…
Conveniently located between the Longs Drugs and Safeway, check out this Local hotspot and see for yourself why it’s one of the longest running jazz clubs in Hawaii!”
With 132 reviews and 4 and a half stars on Yelp, this review from Dan D. in Chicago, IL was voted ‘Most Useful.’
–It would have been useful had it not been for a special event occurring on that Thursday night that would take the typical scene of soulful men in fedoras with their saxes, singing with their harmonicas, and spinning with their pianos away from the stage.
Instead, this Thursday night was “Her Way Thursday” — the night open for all women in Honolulu to stand alone, almost naked on that stage, stripped of any musical instrument, using nothing but her voice, in hopes that it too, will provide an equally intimate experience.
***
“We’re off to Jazz Minds?” the Uber driver Richard confirmed, as we climbed into his car.
“Aw man, it was supposed to be a surprise.” I said, turning to look at my husband, Anderson. It was his 33rd birthday and I wanted us to do something different. “Yea,” I continued. “We’re going to Jazz Minds.”
“Oh it’s okay babe.” Anderson reassured. “Never been there but I’ve heard good things. It’ll be fun to listen to some jazz.”
“Ah but, there actually won’t be any jazz playing tonight.” I said, knowing about the event.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You’ll see.”
***
It was 7:30PM and my slot on stage was scheduled in a half hour. I was the ‘sacrificial lamb’ to start the show, being the newbie and all. After being introduced by the emcee Teri Shibata, I was to have my 8 minutes of fame.
Once a comedian herself, Teri began telling jokes as a radio host. But it was her voice that landed her the career she has today as the island’s number one emcee. It was strong and subtle and when she spoke, everyone stopped to listen. Her conviction, her presence, it was powerful and I was inspired.
I heard an Arabic proverb somewhere that says one must only speak if his words are more beautiful than silence.
That’s my all-time favorite quote because it’s basically the elegant way of saying, “Hey everyone, shut the fuck up cause your words are just making noise.” There’s an art when speaking the words that come out of your mouth and too many times, they’re said thoughtlessly. That’s why I constantly ask myself, “Am I saying things that people already know? Things that people would want to know? Is it worth saying?” I don’t want to pollute the beauty of silence so the lines in my neurotic mind keep getting blurred and I just end up …not speaking. I just end up listening, which honestly? Hasn’t been that bad so far.
But that’s the magic about being a comedian because it combines being a powerful speaker and an attentive listener. It involves being a storyteller who is so masterful with her words that it can ignite a fire hot enough to make people laugh and cry.
To speak and be heard —what a relief and at the same time, what pressure.
*
Our waiter’s name is Lou and he arrives with our drinks: an Old Fashioned for Anderson and a shot of soju for me. My sweet Anderson holds my hand and brings it to his lips. “Thank you for taking me here,” he says.
I smile and before I can say “You’re welcome,” Teri calls my name. Taking the shot of soju with me, I leave Anderson to walk on stage, feeling his questioning eyes on my back.
Sheepishly I stand, struggling to keep my knees from trembling. The spotlight is literally on me now and I have nothing but a mic and a sea of eyes blinking back at me.
*****
Hi, everyone. Thank you for that Teri. Give it up for Teri. Yeah.
So, in Public Speaking class back in College, I was told the number one thing NOT to do was to let anyone know you’re nervous. That’s like, not smart to make yourself look vulnerable. You gotta fake it till you make it, they say. Well, uh, fuck it. I’m pretty fucking nervous. You can tell cause, I’m cussing a lot and in real life, I’m not cool or angry enough to do that!
Ok. So my heart is beating fast and, okay yea, I have to stop with the vulnerable thing. You didn’t come here to see a girl pee her pants. Right?
So if it takes me 13 minutes to run a mile without hyperventilating then I can stand here for 8 minutes just to talk…
Um, to loosen up a bit, I think I have to do some things first, k. Gonna set this timer for 8 minutes.
And now I’m just gonna, excuse me for a sec.
This is my dog, Kaila. Yes, I brought her here. No, she is not a prop. Dog therapy is a real thing and I’m just gonna hold her until my anxiety’s gone…
Okay so, I got my timer, I got my dog, next… (looks at audience and raises shot of soju) Everyone? Cheers! (takes down the shot of soju and swallows hard)
Mm, yes, soju.
Everything’s good, I’m feeling good! (puts Kaila down as she nestles next to her feet)
The last thing I have to do is what I hear always helps when talking in front of people: it’s to imagine you’re all naked.
Mmhm, okay, so check this guy over here. (pointing to Anderson)
Hey you, the second only white guy in the audience… I bet you’re a Midwesterner. You got that I’m-Best-Friends-with-My-Mom look. Where you from sir?
(Anderson laughs and replies, ‘Minnesota!’)
I knew it. You’re one of those guys who have things for asian girls and that’s why you moved here, isn’t it. Tell me, just yes or no: is your girlfriend Asian? (he laughs and shrugs, and says loudly, ‘Yes’)
See, knew it again.
(speaking to audience) Wanna know a secret? I know that guy. (points to self) Asian girlfriend.
He’s a good guy, his name is Anderson and today’s actually his birthday! He turns 45, or 33. I don’t know, I keep forgetting. Numbers mean nothing to me. Like, I know I look like I’m 12, but I’m 29. And it doesn’t help that I’m 4 foot nothing. Growing up with all my haole friends, they’d be around 5 foot ’2 and I’d be like, “I wish I was tall!”
So yea, I don’t care for numbers.
But Anderson? He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever known. He kisses me all the time: in the morning, when we leave for work, sometimes after I’ve made a meal and right before I’m about to take that first bite, he just swoops in and kisses me. And he doesn’t know this, but I struggle with that one.
I’m learning to let it go. It’s just, I’m from Jersey (and I know, I look like a local girl cause, brown skin) but I grew up in a home with 3 other siblings who were everything Jersey: fast, loud, strong. And when we ate, we didn’t mess around. Like, there’s no talking when you’re eating. And no eye contact either. We had tunnel vision, and the focus was always on the food. Anyone here Filipino? You’d know, in our culture, food just tastes better when you eat it fast and when you eat with your hands. Utensils? No, they’ll slow you down!
But damn. It’s a weird contrast you know, when I’m about to engage in this animalistic instinct to get all the food in my mouth, stuffing it with the biggest bite and when I’m about to take that big gulp with food even exploding out the sides and onto my shirt… that’s when Anderson stops to take my hand, look me in my eyes, and kiss a sweet, “Thank-you-for-cooking” kiss, reminding me I used to be someone he knew.
Yeah, I just haven’t balanced that out yet, emotionally. You know? It’s what food does to me.
And as a Filipino, there is nothing I love more than free food! Anderson recently went to a workshop seminar where breakfast and lunch were served to him for free and I was so jealous. I made him bring ziplock bags with him the next day. He lectured, “Ok but if I don’t eat it myself, then I will bring something home for you.” If you don’t eat it yourself, THEN you’ll bring something home for me?!
When he picked me up from work, first thing I said getting into the car was, “You got something for me?” Anderson handed me a ziplock bag with a clementine. I only looked at it. “Where’s the rest?”
Anderson had to stop and think before he reached into his suitcase and handed me a loaf of crumpled banana bread hidden in a napkin.
I don’t know what makes me happier: free food, or that I got my conservative white husband to smuggle it for me in ziplock bags...
I love him, but sometimes his logic does get irritating. Anybody here do the Charity Walk? Well, Anderson and I do it every year. If you’re ever interested in doing charity or community work, this is like, the walk to register for cause not only does it benefit our tourism industry, but you also get to sample tons of food along the way. If you don’t know about it, basically: every couple yards you walk, you get a snack. From musubi to chocolate covered strawberries, to anything really! Free snacks go on and on for the whole 6 miles!
And the best part is at the end when you show all the stamps you got, and then you get a free plate lunch!
Yea it’s been two years and I’m still mad at Anderson cause we actually didn’t get the plate lunch this time around. He made us leave! Can you believe that? He kept saying, “Why’re we gonna wait 45 minutes on line for the kalua pork and fried rice with hot dog and spam? We’re Vegetarian.”
Anderson, it’s sad you don’t get me.
See, my Filipino mother always said, “If it’s free …Good.”
Guess his logic couldn’t understand that.
Other than the food thing, there are other things he’s gotta get used to being with a Filipina. Like, I will always keep pots and pans in the oven rack, shoes are always kept outside, hair will always clog the drain, used paper towels are never thrown away, and I will always be fascinated by his hairy-ness. I wish he’d let me show off his chest hair to my 27-year-old little brother, Sean.
…But I shouldn’t, I know. I wouldn’t wanna make him feel bad that his peach fuzz really isn’t a beard.
In retrospect, I’m learning a lot just from being with Anderson too. He’s teaching me about all these white-people things like: water flossing, drinking LaCroix, and watching woodworking videos for fun on YouTube. But most of all, he taught me —and this is especially hard for a Filipino to grasp —to let someone finish talking before you start talking. White people call it, “not interrupting.” But in my family, we call it, “conversation.”
***
Honestly, it’s weird I’m even up here cause normally I’d be down there with you folks. I just love the whole talk story experience, listening to someone’s mind. Cause I never really felt like mines was worth sharing. But I’m doing okay right now cause, it hasn’t really been about me anyway.
I’m up here cause of him, laughing at him, laughing with him, laughing at me laughing at him. We laugh so much and that’s the best reason of all.
To my loving, old-soul best friend, talking about you is worth it. Happy birthday. I love you Anderson Cooper.
(Timer rings) And perfect timing. Thank you and goodnight! Come on Kaila.
***
“Did you like it?” I asked Anderson, who was smiling from ear to ear at me.
“Yea” he said, as he leaned in to plant one of his now famous kisses.
“Good. Happy birthday.”
________________________
dedicated to Anderson Cooper, whose birthday was on June 3rd.
and happy birthday to Will, whose birthday is today.
Love you.
______________________
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