Jazz and Margie

I'm a fans of Margie Siegers. If you know nothing about her, let me tell you. She's the finest, the softest-swinging jazz lady in Indonesia. I've merely known her from my childhood. For the first time I saw her, she sang some kind of rockabilly thing. I thought I knew by sight, maybe she’s just an ordinary top 40’s pub singer. But later on the next song, she’s mesmerized me with her scat singing. I am thinking of jazz-singing here in somewhat a Mergie’s Siegers context, my resemblance of her. Last time I saw her on a gig was at Black Cat's cafe, she's tiny but astonishing.

Yet, she sure got the twang! She’s like Billie Holiday, a little dash of Ella Fitzgerald,sometimes bitter and black like Peggy Lee's black coffee, ohh and the softness of Nina Simone.

Therefore, when i met her early tonight, she was rushing after a show. Well, i have to make appearance to her as a fans. And I did chat with her for a little while. I've uttered my foolish admiration, along with my silly memories about her. The fascinating lady told me for long after years, jazz has became a part of her life. Yet, an esprit de vie. She stood there and laughed with those wrinkles on her nose. Maybe she's around 50's and still looked stunning!

Previous to that moment, she had just sung a few of christmas jazz songs—don’t we love Christmas time—with Ireng Maulana's band at Pondok Indah. Suddenly i remember. I must sell cookies and hampers tomorrow at the church. Yes, i sell cookies and hampers on christmas time. At the crack of dawn huhu..

Nevermind, pleased to meet Margie afterall. In ahead of time, i was walking around the mall similar to a half-zombie. Passing a couple near a lingerie mannequin, and the boy said to his spouse, "It will look great on you, it's lilac and it's sexy.", in a very flirty manner. Daang, i was stunned. How could they speak like that in front of me? I'm in the middle of a very catastrophic feeling, tragic. But they didn't know it of course. Somehow, i hate walking on men's apparel. it's a blaster! I'm sensing, both wounded and longing represent the notion of being cherished. I'm bleak.

"..Yes, I see your face thru the city light. In every landscape with vary of flowers. In the sounds of music. The tender jazz, or some catastrophic rock.." Once i've written those good 'ol days. Never thought it could be so hard.

Good night and enjoy your holiday :)