About six months ago, Mack Waldron had the contract in his hand. Sign it and the club he had owned for 15 years, Tula’s, would belong to someone else. All he had to do was sign his name.
His lease was ending. His rent was going up. He was 67. His knees and his feet ached (that was the gout and the arthritis). Still, he’d always told himself he could do any of the jobs in his club if he had to, the cooking, the cleaning, the serving.
He decided to tear up the contract.
“I just couldn’t go through with it,” Waldron said. “I couldn’t part with it.”
And so Waldron continued for at least another three years what has become both his love and his burden.
The static popularity of jazz, the economics of hosting live music, the current recession — all have taken their toll on places like Tula’s, and in particular, on the open jam, a timeless ritual of jazz. Starting in February, Tula’s will have only two open jams per month instead of one every week. Once upon a time, Tula’s hosted two a week.
His lease was ending. His rent was going up. He was 67. His knees and his feet ached (that was the gout and the arthritis). Still, he’d always told himself he could do any of the jobs in his club if he had to, the cooking, the cleaning, the serving.
He decided to tear up the contract.
“I just couldn’t go through with it,” Waldron said. “I couldn’t part with it.”
And so Waldron continued for at least another three years what has become both his love and his burden.
The static popularity of jazz, the economics of hosting live music, the current recession — all have taken their toll on places like Tula’s, and in particular, on the open jam, a timeless ritual of jazz. Starting in February, Tula’s will have only two open jams per month instead of one every week. Once upon a time, Tula’s hosted two a week.
