The Doorman's Diary 6.13.14

Calamity and lunacy could reign…it’s Friday the 13^th and a full moon. Technically, we’re a couple of ticks beyond the official full moon night and as long as I keep thinking that today is merely the tomorrow of Thursday the 12^th, everything should be fine. And a fine glittery night it is. To celebrate the impending season change, the Latin jazz band plays their version of Summertime, which sizzles in a pan of congas, guitar and deep bass played by the biggest brown bear found south of the Canadian border. The sauce is further stirred by a guest tenor whose horn adds just enough pepper. At one point, a few songs later after their frenzied take on Willie Bobo’s Haitian Lady, the band leader steps out from his drum set and in front of the congas to invite what appears to be a random, nondescript woman to the stage. “She will sing a beautiful song to us in Portuguese.” With every step to the stage she dramatically transforms into the likeness of the Lisbon-born stunner singer Teresa Salgueiro and her voice is equally beguiling. She caresses the quintet and transforms the club into Hot Clube de Portugal in a cellar in Praça da Alegria, one of the oldest jazz clubs in Europe, since 1948. Tele-transportation occurs and we’re in the dark, comfort of this Lisbon jazz club. The proof: left on the side of the congas was an old time travel decal—Portugal—just like the ones travellers in the last mid-century would affix to their hard-body luggage and travel wardrobes as souvenirs of their journeys. I’m convinced. We were there… if only for her smoldering sensuous song.

The Doorman's Diary 10.19.12

Have my starter wedge and am going to touch base at the door before collecting cover charges from the early arrivals. Sitting on the stylish wood bench near the door was a mass of humanity with a mop of long hair that covered his eyes. As I approach him he takes a Sasquatch-size hand and brushes his hair aside. I ask for the five bucks and he says, “I play bass in the band.” We talk and I learn that he recently got back from playing in a trio for the past 11 months on a cruise trip—five hours every evening including Saturdays and Sundays. “So, you’re warmed up for tonight’s gig,” I say. He enjoys the cruise ship lifestyle and is signed up for a three-month commitment on another ship, which departs in a few weeks. As The Doorman of the jazz club I have astute insights. My psychoanalytic assessment from talking with and observing him is that he is a shy, insecure young man. On the ship, he is a recognized celebrity because of his role and size. At sea, he receives praise and admiration. He gets the cake and the girl (the girl may even serve him cake). As I suspected, he is dang good. He played his double bass like his first girlfriend—genuine affection mixed with urgency. The quartet played standards and originals. I enjoyed their version of Miles’ “So What,” which sounded close to the original. I like musicians who respect a piece of musical perfection enough to play it as it is rather than adding their own interpretation. The Miles Davis imprimatur was not violated.