This old music joke was reprinted in an English jazz mag I subscribe to, I read it with my coffee this morning and I thought you all might get a laugh out of it.

It mostly works because ‘a fifth’ is an old-school jazz musician’s term for a 40-ouncer of booze. Eddie Condon, the guitarist and dispenser of trenchant jazz wit once said the following to explain the difference between modern jazz and his preferred brand of trad-jazz – “We don’t flat our fifths, we drink ’em.”  Anyway, here’s the joke:

C, E-flat and G go into a bar. The bartender says, “Sorry, but we don’t serve minors.”

So E-flat leaves, and C and G have an open fifth between them.

After a few drinks, the fifth is diminished, and G is out flat. F comes in and tries to augment the situation, but isn’t sharp enough.

D enters and heads straight for the loo, saying, “Excuse me, I’ll just be a second.”

Then A comes in, but the bartender is not convinced that this relative of C is not a minor.

The bartender notices B-flat hiding at the end of the bar and says, “Get out! You’re the seventh minor I’ve found in this bar tonight.”

D-flat arrives looking quite handsome and the bartender decides he’s not the best-looking guy he’s ever seen, but a close second.

E-flat comes back later in a three-piece suit with nicely shined shoes. The bartender says, “You’re looking sharp tonight. Come on in, this could be a major development.” Sure enough, E-flat soon takes off his suit and everything else and is au natural.

Eventually C sobers up and realizes in horror that he’s under a rest. C is brought to trial, found guilty of contributing to the diminution of a minor, and is sentenced to ten years of D.S. without Coda at an upscale correctional facility.

Phew.

© 2013, Steve Wallace. All rights reserved.