As it says in the Book of Monterey, if thou seeith Sonny Rollins, thou shalt not see Bobby Hutcherson. And if thou seeith Herbie Hancock, Donny McCaslin is out of the question.

Wait! That’s a joke. There is no Book of Monterey, though for many fans attending the Monterey Jazz Festival over the weekend, the music took on the importance of holy writ. And it was indeed impossible to see legendary vibraphonist Hutcherson on one stage if you were going to sit through an hour-plus show by saxophonist Rollins, probably the greatest living jazz musician, on another.

“I know, it’s a bummer,” said Mingus Bevens, a 16-year-old from Los Angeles, attending with his parents. “My parents always say cloning themselves is the only solution.”

The problem at the 54th annual festival — which took place under mostly sunny skies, Friday through Sunday — is that there were too many goodies on too many stages across the Monterey County Fairgrounds. It’s a conundrum that every year forces passionate fans to study the schedule — laid out like a grid in the festival program — and calculate their moves like chess fiends.

This writer, for instance, made the heartbreaking decision to leave a Friday show by percussionist extraordinaire John Santos after only 20 minutes. Painful as it was, it freed up time to see marquee trumpeter Terence Blanchard, as well as the classy guitarist John Pizzarelli and his band, which includes singer Jessica Molaskey.

Introducing “I Want to Be Happy” to about 6,000 listeners in the Arena, she described the tune as composer “Vincent Youmans’ meditation on codependence.”

Then, as proof, she sang the lyrics:

I want to be happy

But I won’t be happy

Til I make you happy, too

The Arena, which holds about 6,500, looked mighty full through the weekend.

More than one trained eye thought the crowds elsewhere on the fairgrounds were at times thinner than usual. But festival spokesman Timothy Orr said ticket sales seemed on track to match last year’s attendance of about 40,000. Through Saturday night, turnstiles had turned about 32,000 times. (Sunday attendance figures hadn’t been tabulated by press time.)

Let’s say this much: There was no scarcity of revelers. They danced down the Arena aisles during Saturday’s program, titled “An Afternoon in Treme: The Musical Majesty of New Orleans.”

Actor Wendell Pierce, who plays the role of frustrated trombonist Antoine Batiste on HBO’s “Treme,” was emcee. First he put New Orleans into some geographic and historical perspective: “The northernmost Caribbean city! The last bohemia!”

And then he called out the performers, including the Soul Rebels Brass Band, trumpeter Kermit Ruffins and the band Dumpstaphunk. It’s led by New Orleans keyboardist Ivan Neville, 51-year-old son of Aaron Neville, the one who sang “Tell It Like It Is.”

The Arena also is where a relaxed crowd gathered Sunday afternoon for a performance by the Next Generation Jazz Orchestra, the all-star high school big band put together by the festival each year. Lots of proud parents and relatives were in the audience, watching their kids perform with some special guests: Donny McCaslin and two other stars who grew up in the Bay Area, saxophonist Joshua Redman and pianist Benny Green.

As always, the festival offered a wide menu of jazz preferences. Saturday night, the marvelous pianist Geri Allen quickly silenced the Arena crowd, which can be rowdy, with the white heat of her trio music — and by bringing on a young tap dancer named Maurice Chestnut, who functioned as a second drummer in the band, dazzling with his slip-and-slide, clickety-clack moves.

Later in the tiny Coffee House Gallery venue, it was an entirely different scene. Pianist Bill Carrothers — a musician’s musician, not that well known — was playing with his trio for about 30 rapt listeners. Hunched at the keyboard in a low chair, playing in his socks, he treated chords like living things, coaxing them, slowly feeling his way from one to the next and letting a song emerge: “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning.”

He hummed quietly along, chuckled as if discovering something — the beauty of an old song, maybe. It was close to a time-stopping moment. The song sounded new.

Contact Richard Scheinin at 408-920-5069.