The visceral pleasure of an unexpected note

There was a seated VIP dinner in the upstairs lobby of the SFJazz Center for its fifth annual gala Wednesday, Jan. 18, and I got a glimpse of long tables neatly set with flowers, place cards and the stately accoutrements of such events. We were downstairs, however, where guests gathered around to listen to the music — the SFJazz High School AllStars in the Joe Henderson Lab and also to one side of the lobby. The crowd was so big that there was pleasant jostling, a buzz, and people jammed into a jitter buggingly crooked line to pick up tickets good-naturedly stood elbow-to-elbow at the bar.

It was a fitting metaphor for jazz, the music at hand, a melding of rhythm and notes all the more exciting because there’s an element that’s unpredictable, a bit disorderly, in fact. (Critic Aidin Vaziri has more to say about the music.)

When I brushed past Narrative magazine Co-Editor Tom Jenks, he said, “May the gods grant us safe passage.” I think he was referring, obliquely, to the election (the only reference I heard all night), but he may have been referring to moving through the crowd in the lobby.

The gala was a tribute to Zakir Hussain, the renowned Indian-born percussionist who moved to Marin County at the age of 20. (Every guest was given a red or pink linen scarf with a note: “As a symbol of our honoree, music and culture, we invite you to wear this scarf in a manner that inspires you!”) The honoree, especially known for his collaboration with other musicians, was onstage during much of the concert that was the gala’s main event. Mickey Hart, who bestowed the award, referred to Hussain as his best friend, “my dear brother for 47 years.”

Watching Hussain’s fingers flicking over the surfaces of his drums was as much fun as counting the heads of audience members who couldn’t keep still when the drums are playing. (Who will head-bop, incidentally, is often surprising.) But there were other shows, too:

Right at the concert’s start, as tenor saxophonist David Sánchez sounded the first notes while making his way to the stage from the back of the hall, we noticed a man sitting in the second seat just across the aisle, wrapping his left hand around the exposed right thigh of the woman in the aisle seat, whose red dress had ridden up around her legs. The Kronos Quartet and Hussain played together; and I watched his fingers inching up under her skirt. Later in the concert, they changed seats and moved to the center of their row. Nuts!

Next night it was on to the San Francisco Ballet gala, where most wellbehaved audience members are likely to keep their eyes on the performers’ bodies and their hands to themselves.

Meanwhile, as the days dwindled down to Inauguration Day, one man took to Nextdoor in my own hood, the central Haight, to look for suggestions for protest signs for his girlfriend, who was on her way to Washington, D.C. Neighbors suggested he turn to http://jointheuproar.com, where suggestions ranged from the powerful “Resist” to the playful “Stay Nasty.” Meanwhile (there’s always a biz angle), the Oakland graphic design marketplace 99designs is offering tips for sign makers — perhaps too late for inaugural demonstrations, but in the next four years there may be other opportunities — (1) Be clear; (2) Use humor and wit; (3) Be brief; (4) Presentation matters; (5) Have some heart/be passionate/ be genuine.

Allen Matthews’ Nextdoor listing included a guilt-laden plea from a writer looking for a cozy place “around Oakland where I can sit with my laptop for a few hours without spending $$$ on a meal? I don’t mind buying coffee and a sandwich, perhaps, but I usually feel weird if I don’t buy more.”

John Weil saw the sign of an Emeryville panhandler: “My wife had a better lawyer.”

Leaving a funeral at Peninsula Temple Beth El in San Mateo, Phil Abrams overheard one person commenting to another about the music the family had arranged to be played, in honor of the deceased. “Loved the song by Steppenwolf, ‘Born to Be Wild,’ ” said one mourner to another. “My grandmother used to sing it to me,” was the reply.