Mark Guiliana:
A good half-hour into Dave’s set, Jules still hadn’t returned from his phone call. I think it was assumed (and certainly hoped by most of us) that he wasn’t coming back; but sometime around the last 2 or 3 tunes he returned and took a seat. By now Buttons had moved to sit on Phylicia Rashad’s side of the table, so Jules sat next to me at our table’s end.
I never figured Jules would be much of a jazz fan--particularly since he missed so much of the show; but he returned with a charged energy and focus on the music that surprised me. He was really locked into the drummer and seemed to genuinely hear the melodies, reacting strongly when he anticipated the turnarounds or liked a phrase. In his hands he held his cellphone which he clutched like a talisman. He clasped it between his palms and squeezed it as though in reverence, while he did everything but dance in his seat. At one point he even looked close to tears and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was on.
And how I could get some.
As the show ended and the lights went back up, Jules sat in his chair as though stunned at the short set.
“What?! They just started!”
Even Phylicia Rashad had to laugh at that.
As for me, I left for the bathroom almost immediately since now I could see everyone’s face as they looked our way and snickered or sneered. I know lots of regulars at Jazz Standard and the manager too, so I wanted a bit of separation from Jules as the crowd filed out.
Not only did I use the bathroom, but I stepped outside to steal a few pulls off my one-hitter. Snag a little peace before Buttons and Jules sucked down the rest of my stash. I allowed enough time for the crowd (particularly The Huxtables) to leave, and only then proceeded back inside, where I found Buttons and Jules engaged in a heated conversation with none other than Dave Douglas.
Oh no.
Jules was jabbing that index finger of his into Dave Douglas’ chest, and I could hear Buttons drop a few excited You betcha’s into the mix as I attempted to spin on my heels and make a second quick exit. Only Buttons saw me first.
“Hey!--there he is. Lodo! Come here. Look who we’re talking to! Hey Dave, this is the guy who brought us here. Lodo. We love him.”
You can imagine how excited Dave Douglas was to meet me after that introduction; though I like to believe as our hands shook and our eyes locked that he understood my predicament. I can’t recall exactly what was said beyond the standard perfunctories, before The Huxtables--who (God damnit!) still hadn’t left yet--passed us on their way out the door.
Phylicia Rashad said nothing as she smiled towards Dave Douglas, then managed to imbibe her expression with some condescension as she flashed it towards us. Jules didn’t bother to engage her; but instead turned towards the husband.
“Hey there, my bad if there was any misunderstanding,” Jules said as he extended his hand for a shake, “I’m sorry brother, I just thought we could really talk is all.”
The man looked at Jules with that same curiosity that Phylicia had before all the trouble started. As though not sure what to make of him. He looked at Jules, then me. Then back at Phylicia Rashad.
“Well brother?” Phylicia asked with a laugh towards her husband.
The man laughed too, but in a different way. Phylicia was derisive, whereas the husband was more... Well, as an investigator I can only report that “he accepted Jules’ hand, then walked away without comment.”
“Hey!” Jules said to me once the Huxtables had passed. “Look at this.”
Jules turned the display window of his cheap Samsung flip-phone in my direction where I could read a received text. It read:
Mark Guiliana is my favorite drummer. Dave Douglas is a bad-ass!
“You see that?” he asked as he swatted at my shoulder, “that’s from my son!”
Jules hopped up and down like an 1840’s prospector as he turned the phone round to read the text again. He read and re-read it as his smile beamed brighter and brighter; then he turned the phone towards Dave Douglas and shoved it towards his face.
“You see that man?!” he said.
Dave acknowledged the text even as he retreated back on his stool like Phylicia Rashad had done.
“Maybe you should buy him a disc,” Dave mentioned somewhat casually. “I’ll sign it if you want.”
Dave gestured towards the bar where several boxes of compact discs were displayed. I gave a brief rundown on Dave’s career last installment, but in case you aren't aware, he has lots of different projects. He has the Keystone group; the Dave Douglas Quintet; he sometimes has a Big Band; and he has Brass Ecstasy. Other line-ups too. In fact, I would say that one of the things I like most ‘bout Dave Douglas is that I don’t like everything he does. He has lots of different projects and experiments. And I respect that, even when its not my favorite.
But my point here is that there were several discs from each of Dave's half-dozen projects for sale.
“Which one should we get Lodo?” Buttons asked as she inspected the various options.
“Get the Keystone,” I told her. “You can’t lose with that band.”
“Well what about this one?” she asked, purposely loud enough for Dave to hear. “Dave Douglas Quintet? This one’s total crap?”
“No Buttons--did I say that? Of course its good. I just happen to like the Keystone.”
“Well to hell with that!” Jules suddenly broke in, “get one of everything. I’m not sure which is Billy’s favorite.”
So Buttons selected a literal handful of discs and gave them to Jules.
“What about you Lodo?” she asked. “Is there one that you want? We’ll buy it for you.”
“Oh no Buttons, thanks. You don’t have to do that.”
At this Jules suddenly became offended and turned on me.
“Brother--you don’t think I know I don’t have to? I want to! This guy’s my son’s favorite! And you brought us here without me even knowing it. Come on man, pick out one of these discs. Pick a couple ya asshole! Don’t ruin the moment.”
So okay reader, I picked out a few discs; but even better was that now Dave began to warm-up to us a little bit. I got the chance to talk to him. Exchange a few thoughts on music and dogs and whatnot. Until suddenly,
“Hey you two! Look over here,” Buttons giggled as she drunkenly fumbled with her camera and took what I thought was a clumsy picture.
But now I think she took a great shot.
* NOTE: Due to the length of this post, I'm going to split it into some more parts. Next installment--or a status on its completion in a few days.
*ADDITIONAL NOTE: All pics stolen off Google Images except for the shot of Dave Douglas and me. All rights reserved on my pic. Copyrights may exists on others.
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