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The Clubs Next Door

Gretchen Parloto

It was the spring of 2002. Using our sophisticated interoffice communications system, someone yelled: “Danny Meyer is on the phone for you.” Danny Meyer! The restaurant guru – numero uno. What did he want? Was he inviting me to a special banquet? (I hoped.)

“George, I’m going to open a jazz club. Can you give me some advice?” I think he called the wrong guy. Boston, 1950-1960, George Wein’s Storyville. “The Birthplace of Jazz”. Ten years of the finest music jazz had to offer: Duke, Louis, Ella, Miles, Dizzy. Everybody existed. We had fun, but it closed without a dime in my pocket.

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