One guy's playing onstage, but several more have their cases open on tables and their horns out. Waiting their turn to front the backup quartet, inspecting mouthpieces and reeds, working their fingers up and down quiet scales, looking like they're posing for one of those funky David Stone Martin album-cover illustrations circa 1957.
I count five saxophones and two trumpets. Only two trumpets? Why aren't there more trumpet players in the world? If I were an instrument, it would be a trumpet.
"Why so few trumpets?" I ask Greg. He thinks it's because the saxophone is sexier.
By the time last call rolls around, Greg has left. All the musicians who're still here take the stage to jam together on Miles Davis' "So What."
And when the time comes, I pull out the trumpet I play in my head and take my inaudible solo. YOU ARE HERE By Timothy Lane