Marty and Elayne would sometimes opt to not make it back to the greenroom during their break between sets (which was a small table by the time clock adjacent to the kitchen.) Sometimes after the dining room was closed and the lights were dimmed, they would sit in one of the classic white booths to while away the 20 minutes or so of breaktime between performances. When they did this, sometimes guest singers would make their way to the table and sit with the iconic jazz duo, other times they were left alone by fans and guest musicians alike. This was one of those rare instances where no one came by to take court with them. They seemed bored so I sat in next to Elayne with Marty sitting across from me. There was some silly thing that happened with a patron just prior to their break. This guy went a little nutty by attempting to do a rap version of Mac The Knife (or some such thing) live with the band. Which might have been okay, but, he was just inventing lyrics - thugish stuff - which made no sense to the song, or anything. So when I sat into the booth in the dining room where Marty and Elayne were attempting a reprive from the wankiness. I mentioned the following to them. “I want to do a poem to music when you guys call me up for the next set.” And they both got the joke and laughed. “Yea, I have these words I want to put into a classic jazz song from the Great American Songbook. I’m just not sure what song to put it too - I think that fellow earlier was actually singing New York New York to you guys playing Mac the Knife.” And again they laughed, from the belly. “My poem goes like this,” and I was just making words up as I spoke, “The leaves. The leaves. The leaves, they fall.” Elayne, while laughing, without missing a beat added, “The wind, the wind, the wind it blows.” And I witnessed Elayne laugh harder than I thought she ever possibly could - on the heels of the goofball dude rapping gibberish to Mac the Knife at the end of their last set, and then this silly poem we were inventing, it seemed so absurd to her! It was so much fun. In the matter of an idiotic second Elayne and I had conjured up the following silly poem to put down in music for their next set, on the bar side, at the Dresden.
The leaves, the leaves…
they fall.
The leaves fall.
The wind, the wind
it blows.
The wind it blows.
The leaves, the leaves…
they rustle
The leaves rustle.
That was a beautiful night for me. At midnight I sang with them. Musically, they always gently walked me through my thing, and the bar patrons were always kind in supporting my effort in singing songs. But, I mostly remember how much fun Elayne and I had making up that silly poem - The Leaves Rustle. My remembrance of creating that frivolous little poem with Elayne (with Marty sitting with us) that evening, in the darkened, luxurious, ghost-filled, Dresden dining room, always presents me with a delicious, warm, smile to indulge my heart in. It ranks as one of my fondest moments at the Dresden. It was a fantastic, simple moment, with two iconic-cool, eccentric, charming, Hollywood legends that were such good people to be with.
(via John Reneaud's substack: https://substack.com/@somedudefromdetroit
-John Reneaud
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