Politoed

Now city guides and all are nice, but they don't tell you about every place to be seen. Such pamphlets will happily tell you about the big name places and all the civic sites to be seen. But if you get in the know with the locals, there's always a few great places that never make the lists. These little secrets often can be better than the big name hotshots.

One such place around here is the Jazz Counter over up on Maple Street a ways. They make a mass of homestyle foods, like chicken fried steak with gravy and real mashed potatoes. Generally, they've got a guy at the piano during the early day, but if you go around afternoon or evening time, they open up their stage to anybody who brings their own instruments. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it ain't, but the players have heart, so you gotta give them that. Especially if it's one of the kids from the school thereabouts.

I can tell you an interesting story about the place, if you like.

You've got your people who play at Jazz Counter once and then aren't seen again. But then you get the regulars, good folks who come on a more or less regular basis. Like Mike and his Politoed Paul. They're getting on to being old folks, but they're out at the place every Thursday evening. Mike plays the saxophone, and he does so well. He teaches at the school, you know.

And Paul, well that Pokemon has got one smooth voice. He comes and hangs by Mike's chair and does this lovely deep melody that I've never heard a human match. They've never played the same thing twice, at least to my recollection. They always played off each other and blended together perfectly. Good folks, they're willing to jam with others who ask to play.

Poliwags are all over the place out here, and so you see lots of Poliwraths about. But not much for Politoed. I hear they've got to be traded or something with a King's Rock. I believe it. Paul's got a little curly hair above his green head that sticks up there like a little floating crown. Makes him all regal, I guess. But he sure ain't stuck up or anything.

There was this one Thursday a while back where we got a bit of a surprise out at the Jazz Counter. Somebody with two Politoeds dropped by while Mike and Paul were playing. One of them I guess was a female while the other was wearing a jaunty purple hat. Paul, of course, was interested in his two kin, so Mike let him take a break while he did a sax solo.

Now I happened to be near the three Pokemon, but I ain't never figured out their language completely. Still, I watched to see what would happen. Paul seemed happy at first, and croaked cheerily with his new companions. The one with the hat spoke the most, while the girl with him seemed to agree on most anything he said. The one time she didn't agree, she smacked the hatted one upside the head. Seems she knows how to keep her guy in line.

After a bit, though, Paul was looking nervous. The other two were talking at him while he tried to impress them with something, but it wasn't working. It was something like one car guy telling about his project Chevy that's half-gutted in the garage when the other car guy tells that he's got two nice shiny hot rods in front of the house and a third in progress. He can try all he like, but the one mid-project guy isn't going to come up to par with the two car guy. Seems whatever the Pokemon were talking about, Paul only had his project while the two others had lots.

Then the dispirited Politoed looked to Mike and got an idea. He talked with the two others about something that they seemed pleased with. With that, the three left the table and went over to the stage. Paul tapped his Trainer on the leg and made a sign that he wanted the two others to sing with them.

Mike nodded, of course. I don't think I've ever seen him turn down anybody that wanted to play along, and he's tolerant of whatever skill level they're at. After thinking a bit, he started a common and simple melody on his sax. It's the kind of thing Clefairies like to sing, so I hear. Paul knew it well and was singing along low as usual.

Now the two others glanced at each other, like they weren't sure about this. But then the male with the jaunty hat shrugged, then belted out this massive note. I swear, you probably could've heard that Politoed from miles away. It was the right note, I suppose, but so loud that everybody in the restaurant was startled. One of the waitresses dropped a plate. Paul stopped singing, although Mike didn't let it bother him. He kept playing.

Then the girl Politoed started singing too, and she was as loud as her friend. Paul wasn't sure what to do; I've heard him croak out pretty loud before, but nothing like this. And he always matched his volume perfectly with the instruments so nobody got drowned out. So he looked down at the floor, apparently embarrassed.

With that, the Trainer of the other two got up. "Will you stop that racket already? That's not how music is to be sung."

The hatted one and the girl Politoed stopped right then, looking embarrassed as well. Paul looked back up, but started leaning against the chair. And then Mike stopped playing.

I know you don't know Mike, so let me tell you something about him. He don't talk much, at least around here. He says a couple of words every now and then, and he usually won't stop his music for much of anything beyond a glass of water. So when he stopped then, everybody paused, wondering what was on his mind.

Calmly, he replied to the man, "There ain't a wrong way to be playing your music, aside from not knowing your instrument or your voice. And that's their natural way of singing, cause they used to have to call out to each other from across great swamps and lakes. So it ain't wrong, just different, like how me and Paul play different." Then he turned to the three Pokemon. "It's all good, long as you've got your heart in the beat."

With that, he went back to playing his music. Paul soon joined him, a good deal happier than he had been a moment ago. The other two, though, they went back to their Trainer and we never saw those three again.

But I'm sure if you come around to the Jazz Counter this Thursday evening, you'll find Mike and Paul there, still playing.

…

Politoed Fire Red entry: Whenever three or more of these get together, they sing in a loud voice that sounds like bellowing.

I imitated the style of an older person telling a story here. I like that Fire Red entry; it fits with Politoed's source as a bullfrog.