When the world zigs, we zag appears to be
the philosophy of the jazz club owner. This is the weekend of a nearby jazz
festival, so we have blues scheduled both nights. Tonight we have an incredible
old time bluesman and his group. A superb drummer, the blues guy was
accompanied by guitar, bass, and keyboard. The guitarist is probably the best
blues guitarist I've ever seen. Solidly middle-aged with long dreads, the guy
knew his guitar better than his lover's body. He was restrained when called for
and aggressive when needed. He added sparkles and flourishes when necessary. At
one time he did the Jimi thing of playing behind his head and at all times knew
which note to play. The band did a pseudo country tune and someone gave him a
shot glass and he added slide guitar accents to the song. A similarly-aged
white guy (the band was black & blues) had joined them for one set and
played trumpet. He added tasteful brass zingers. At the break I complimented
the guitarist and told him I wanted to be there at the moment he's unleashed
and looses control. "I love the guitar," he admitted. I also caught
the trumpet man when he was leaving. While I was complimenting him, he said
"I think I know you from a different context--I’m sure I do." I should
have said, "You’re mistaken, I am merely The Doorman." it's part of
The Doorman code to never reveal any other identity than being guardian of the
door. I violated a prime directive and discovered that our paths have crossed,
but never intersected. Close call - need to re-read The Doorman's Handbook and
abide the rules!
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