Beautiful spring neon-drenched night… the door and windows flung wide open to take it all in. Excellent jazz trio filled the club with cat-paw, velvet-soft standards and original arrangements. It was a perfect night. And like perfect nights there was a sense of unsettled desire in the city. Many were racing from there to here and back… searching for the ethereal “in place.” I could see it in the mad eyes of those in the cars that zipped past, halted, took sharp turns, and did donut-360’s to go back the direction from where they came. Searching… searching in fear that they’re missing out. The few jazz fans we had were wonderful. They exuded the calm of those that knew they were in the best place in the universe. They soaked up the mellow vibe of the trio and returned it with true and grand appreciation. The group played like they were headlining at Newport. After one of the late-night breaks, the club was empty except for a table of three young jazz lovers on leave from the Great Lakes Naval Base. The band knew they had to play. And they had to play well. The three had finished their training and were awaiting departure orders—one to San Diego, one to Virginia and then to San Diego, and the third to Japan. Two young earnest-looking handsome guys—one of which grew up in a jazz-loving family—and a too young woman with deep, dark-brown soulful eyes that were portals to a million warm sensual spring nights like tonight. It was tempting, but I could not look into her beautiful eyes for long… fearing I’d be lost in the cosmic netherworld only to emerge somewhere in the warm embrace of a straightjacket. A wonderful night for jazz.
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