The Doorman’s Diary: 9.9-10.11

Cool, near full-moon night. The black sky was clear as plexiglass. Traffic headlights flowed molten and the jazz band came prepared to transport us. The club filled. A steady flow of jazz lovers passed through the door. There were couples—straight and gay, small groups, and a few lone wolves. Two customer quartets stand out. Four guys from Fairbanks, Alaska here on business and two Asian couples with glossy black hair the color of midnight. The group’s sax player showed up late, rushing past me to join in for the song’s last phrase. The next song they played was from Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue album. I was easing into its sacred groove when the sax player jumped in with his jagged style. I cringed while thinking that this tenor chump just doesn’t understand and was yearning for a ray gun to vaporize him. Mercifully the song ended and they were on to more compatible songs. When the jazz singer joined the group is when galaxies of stars came into alignment. There were moments when I could squint my eyes and watch her through our friendly crowd and believe it was Billie Holiday there and it was 1939 in a dim-lit club somewhere in Detroit. I was lost in their mellowness.. teletransported beyond. The night culminated with their jazz version of Aretha Franklin’s Dr. Feelgood. A fine night indeed.