Warm
summer night. The jazz club was air-condition cool, which felt great. Traffic
was steady but the club was not jammed, which deterred some from coming in. Some
just won’t enter unless there’s a crowd. To me, a jazz club is not the place to
see and be seen. I’d just as soon not admit folks who think coming to the jazz
club adds to their cred as being cool. Give me folks who come for the music.
Tonight we celebrated the owner’s birthday, so the band did its jazzy version
of happy birthday and she blew out a bunch of candles on a chocolate pancake. Among
the folks here tonight were a jazz couple who had held their new CD release
party at the club. The gentleman in the couple joined the quintet for a few
songs. He plays jazz guitar but when he returned from his car trunk he had a
small case containing a melodica or key-flute, which he used to harmonize with
the trumpet and sax. It was an interesting addition, especially on the group’s
version of the Thelonious Monk song, Blue Monk. Journal-man showed up with his
journal and pen. He sat at the bar with his drink, enjoying the jazz and
writing in his journal. A group of eight or nine friends of the bartender showed
and filled the one side of the bar. The blues harp player came this night and
at one point he was playing with the melodica and horns which made for a unique
sound.
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