Gather a few dozen jazz musicians in a single room, and it won’t take long before the zingers start to fly.
And when the conversation turns to club owners, watch out–the one-liners are likely to be lethal.
So it was Sunday night at the Jazz Showcase, where several Chicago musicians (and others) converged to roast Joe Segal, in honor of the man’s 50th anniversary as owner of that venerable club.
One by one the jazz aficionados took to the stage, picked up the microphone, sharpened their knives and went to work.
“I don’t know why everyone kids Joe about being tight with a dollar,” said veteran deejay Dick Buckley, the evening’s emcee.
“He throws money around like manhole covers.”
Yes, Segal’s reputation as an impresario who’s fiscally challenged came back to haunt him.
“Once, Joe was paying (saxophonist) Zoot Sims,” in cash, recalled Chicago saxophonist Eric Schneider.
Afraid that Sims might get mugged on the way out of the club, Segal said to Sims: “Be careful, man, people know I pay today.”
To which Sims replied, “Yeah, but they also know what you pay.”
It’s not just money, however, that has endeared Segal to jazz musicians around the world. It’s also his winning personality.
Years ago, remembered trumpeter Bobby Lewis, Dizzy Gillespie had broken his horn in the middle of a set–on a Saturday night–and Segal needed to find another instrument, pronto.
So the club owner called Lewis at home for help. Lewis immediately agreed to drop everything and drive in from suburbia to lend Gillespie a trumpet.
“Don’t you know anyone who lives closer?” asked Segal, ever gracious in accepting a helping hand.
When Lewis said he couldn’t think of any other trumpeter who would be home on a Saturday night, the impresario agreed to settle for his horn: “All right,” said Segal, “but make it quick.”
Segal’s sunny approach to life apparently has led to rumors about his upbringing.
“They tell me that years ago he was an unwanted child,” said trumpeter Sonny Turner.
“His folks drove him out to Idaho, left him there, and gave him a rattle.
“Unfortunately, it was still attached to the snake it came from, and that helped shape his personality.”
Even so, Turner wondered aloud how Chicago could thank Segal for his contributions.
“What can we give to the man who has everything?” asked Turner, pointing to Segal’s characteristically expressionless face.
“I suggest penicillin. Then we’ll try the sulfur drugs.”
All the testimonials, of course, amounted to a left-handed tribute to the senior jazz club owner in Chicago and, possibly, the United States.
If Segal is a bit quirky, perhaps that’s what it took to survive half a century in jazz.
“He’s actually a nice guy,” said Buckley, in closing the evening, “if you get to know him.”
