Memorandum d'Michelle: Brubeck Brothers Quartet at Cabaret Jazz in Las Vegas

An illicit picture I capture before an usher gently shut me down. Notice how beautifully the Samsung Galaxy captures low-light situations. The Cabaret Jazz club on the campus of The Smith Center is exquisite -- cool pink and blue spotlights, a mezzanine balcony, and a menu of cocktails and small bites. All seating is in tables -- four-seaters on the floor, and two-seaters pushed up close to the railing of the balcony.

Having grown up about 15 miles from the Brubeck Jazz Institute at the University of the Pacific in Stockton, I knew that famous surname when it showed up on the calendar at The Smith Center here in Las Vegas, and I quickly enlisted my classical pianist roommate to accompany me for the Nov. 23 show.

It was my first time at Cabaret Jazz, the intimate, 250-person theater on the campus of year-old Smith Center. We got the cheap seats -- in a mezzanine balcony, in a corner, certainly the worst ones in the house. But that couldn't spoil the elegance of the Art Deco venue, filled with small cocktail tables and lit in cool shades of blue and pink. And it certainly couldn't spoil the perfection of the jazz.

Dave Brubeck himself died last December at age 91, but two of his sons -- Chris and Dan -- carry on his legacy with two other "honorary brothers" on the keys and the guitar. Everything was as unfussy and lovely as you'd expect from the father of "cool jazz." There was the gentle piano solo that Dave had written for his wife Iola, showing off both the classical sensibilities that his mom tried to instill in him and the jazzy freedom that made him famous. I loved the tribute to jazz pianist Marian McPartland. Brubeck went through a phase where he riffed on people's names, and in this tune, you could hear the six syllables of mar-ee-ann mc-part-land in the melody. I sang along. What really brought down the house (as much as the house could be brought down; almost everyone in the crowd was silver-haired) was "Blue Rondo a la Turk." It's that infectious, instantly recognizable standard in 9/8 time, from that famous 1959 record, "Time Out."

In hindsight, good thing we were way in the back. I got to take a few illicit pictures before an usher shut me down, and stood up and grooved to the finale.

I was on a musical high when the lights went up a scant 90 minutes later.

But the great thing about the small venue is that Maya and I got to meet and greet the band. They were as understated and approachable as you'd expect from "jazzers," and we gushed over them and had our pictures taken like silly groupies. They didn't really seem to mind.

They invited us to hang out with them at the Golden Nugget's famous Shark Tank bar after the show, and we were giddy as schoolgirls. But somehow we missed them, and being the old ladies we are, decided to head back and get to sleep at a decent hour.

It was quite the memorable evening, and I can't say enough how grateful I am that I live in a place like Vegas, with The Smith Center and all its world-class acts, and the chance to chill out with legends like the Brubecks. Lucky me.