Meeting a legend.

On Friday night, April 16, 2010, my wife and I went to a show at the Dakota Jazz Club in downtown Minneapolis. It turned out to be more than just a show, it was a musical experience. The amazing composer, musician, and piano/keyboard great Chick Corea was playing that night, along with composer, musician and vibraphonist Gary Burton (whom, I am embarrassed to say, I had not heard of before).

I had NO idea what to expect. Chick has such a huge body of work - not even including the years with Miles Davis. When Chick and Gary were introduced, Gary came out first wearing all black and took his place behind the vibraphones. Chick came out of the other entrance next to the small, intimate stage holding the gorgeous, black grand piano. He was totally dressed down in a white shirt, black t-shirt, black track pants and tennis shoes. I loved it! For the next hour and a half to two hours, I was spellbound. The music felt like a trip through the heart of space, conjuring up the spirits of Thelonius Monk (of which the played several of his tunes), John Lennon (where they played THE most incredible rendition of the Lennon/McCartney song Eleanor Rigby), and several other standards. They were lengthy; however, it only added to the beauty of this experience. Burton was a magician on the vibes! Here I am sitting just dumbfounded at how a human being could produce such dreamy melodies on that instrument. Watching Chick play live was like taking a master class in piano. I couldn't move! I was too afraid I would miss something. If I had to go to the bathroom (which I didn't) I would have just ignored the urge. There was something more important happening at that moment. They played about two hours worth of music and two encores. The usually subdued Minnesota crowd I was used to was going wild - myself included. As a composer, musician and keyboard player myself, I was like, "Damn! I gotta step up my game after this! I wanna play all of that music they played tonight!" They were so casual and informal in their musical interactions - though by hearing them you would think they were playing at the Royal Albert Hall. They admitted that they were trying out new stuff and just worked it out as they went. This further sent me into a giddy state of bliss seeing these two master musicians just enjoying the miracle of the process of making music and playing together.

After the show was over, I wondered: would I or would I not get a chance to meet Chick Corea? Was he that type of cat who would meet and greet? Before leaving home for the concert, I packed our digital camera and a small notebook where I usually wrote out my musical ideas - just in case a photo op and/or an autograph was even a remote possibility. I said to my wife, "I don't know if he is that type of cat. But I want to be ready just in case." Am I glad I followed my first mind. I noticed a short receiving line of guys next to the green room where Chick and Gary were. That was my cue! I grabbed the camera and my notebook and made a B-line for it. There was a guy in front of me with a short stack of vinyl LPs. I couldn't tell if they were recordings by Chick or Gary or a mix of both. I saw Gary Burton slip out of the dressing room in a jacket and baseball cap. A couple of people acknowledged him and complemented him on the music, which he graciously accepted. The guy in front of me didn't think it was Gary. I said to him, "Yes. That was him." The next thing I knew he flew out of the receiving line after him. I guess he really wanted to meet him. A minute or so after that, one of the Dakota staff motioned us into the dressing room ("Us" being a young man and his father, and me) where Chick Corea was just relaxing on the couch. He was so relaxed, casual and just cool. He happily posed for pictures with the young guy and his dad after. Then it was my turn. I extended my hand and he met it half-way with his, with a huge smile like he had known me for years. I won't lie. I was 100% starstruck! I told him how much I wanted to play like him when I was younger. He asked if I was in a group, and I mentioned I put together a trio. He couldn't help but ask if I got any grief about my first name. Then I told him my full name. He thought it was great. "You could just name your album that!" he said with a huge smile yet again. I got the picture with him - AND the autograph. He told me, "Keep the music going." I was floating on cloud 9 out of that dressing room.

For me, people like Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock, Amel Larrieux (whom I also met) always leave me starstruck and hopeful for the future of human-kind and the arts. Yes! I said that. For me, they are shining examples of what it means to still believe in what you're doing in the world and to still have love and reverence for the music. They laid the groundwork for cats like me trying to keep it going. So I am going do exactly what Mr. Chick Corea asked me to do: Keep the music going.

Time May Change Me, But I Can't Trace Time

A song I have come to appreciate over the last decade is a tune that was written when I was just a little boy. A song called Changes by David Bowie - then known by his stage alter ego, Ziggy Stardust. I recall seeing footage of Bowie/Stardust performing this tune when I was a teen and being more distracted by the crazy, space-age, androgynous outfit he was wearing than being at all interested in the song itself. But despite my disinterest in the song, I could not help but be somewhat touched by the musical arrangement. It was different. There was a fusion of some sort between old-school rock and jazz from what I could tell. Then there were the lyrics. Then? Aside from the chorus, paid NO attention to them. Who needed to know what he was saying when he was up there dressed like an alien? That was plenty! Me being the writer/poet that I am today, I Googled the lyrics after watching Bowie on YouTube doing Changes. I became interested in what he was saying in regards to that subject: Change. I read the lyrics and damn if I wasn't moved by them. Like really. It's a poem basically, as are most song lyrics in their embryonic state. I really dig the following verse:

I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through

You can't tell me that ain't deep! I mean seriously!! What's got me examining this song and it's meaning to me is this. I used to be involved with an organization (I will refrain from revealing its identity) that uses a method involving peer counseling and attention as a means of healing from old hurts. It was introduced to me by an old friend. At the time I was going through some major grief due to the loss of my father. More or less, it was something new I was willing to try and I trusted my friend. As it turns out this is a practice that is done worldwide. For 11 years of my life, I was devoted to this practice and the people involved. As of a year and a half ago, I came face to face with some MAJOR issues in my private life. It was a wake-up call. I needed to make some changes or else face losing someone/something important in my life. I quit the organization and its practice. What began as a temporary hiatus turned into a permanent separation. With the exception of a few, the people whom I used to have contact with through the organization seemed to have ceased contact with me. A couple of days ago I bumped into someone whom I knew from that organization at my local co-op. It was very pleasant and sweet I must admit. She asked if I would be returning to the practice anytime soon. I said no. "It's no longer part of my life." I added. She seemed to understand. I emailed her a couple of days later mentioning how good it was to see her and how I have no regrets about moving on. She replied today with a lengthy, but very heartfelt and sweet response. In a way, it truly felt like that chapter was finished so another one could be written.

What does all this add up to? I quote Mr. Bowie again, "I watch the ripples change their size. But never leave the stream." How do I translate that? For me, it means that you cannot stop growth and no one, to my knowledge, said that growth does not hurt sometimes. However, I am still me at the core. Associations with people and organizations might challenge, modify, and in some cases, change the foundation of who you are. I would say on my own behalf that my core values have been challenged and modified to some extent through my association with various individuals and communities. Some of those relationships have ended now. But I learned some things from the experience as it happened. I'm still the same human being at the core regardless. And the lesson I learned? Even if people somehow forget who I am because the relationship changed, the main thing is that I don't forget who I am.

Time May Change Me
But I Can't Trace Time

We Just Don't Know

This morning, a fire destroyed an irish pub and several apartments above it three blocks west of my house in south Minneapolis. The last I checked the news reports online, six people were confirmed dead - two adults, two children, and two other victims that remain unknown.

Any tragedy of this kind that takes even one human life hits me; however, I began to wonder why this one in particular is really effecting me. I did not know anyone who lived above and/or worked at the pub (I've only been there once to get some take-out food). It's not the first time I have seen or heard of a fire claiming lives and destroying someone's business or home. So why? With all the terrible, absurd events of the world where countless lives are lost, literally, on the hour - why? From what I can gather and understand for myself, death brings us face to face with our own mortality. Western society, I believe, has not fully accepted, if at all, the reality that death is part of the cycle of life. One day, our time will come. We're reminded daily of this reality in every possible form of media available to us. And most of us have experienced this up close and personal through the loss of a loved one or through our very own brush with death. But who wants think about it? Not me! No way! However, I cannot help but think about it. The older I get, the more it comes to mind. I'm not on some dark, morbid trip or trying to take someone there - at least I don't think I am. But I cannot deny that it is on my mind from time to time. Is it because I want to brace myself early for when my time comes? Am I wondering, "Is this gonna hurt really bad?" or "Oh my God! I don't want to see my wife or my mother go through that kind of sadness!" I'm not sure. Maybe a combination of all of them. Who knows?

My motivation for even writing about this is still looming about in my mind as we speak. My first thought is, "You just don't know what will happen. You gotta live YOUR life! Period." I've heard this said in one version or another within spiritual, dramatic, and even comedic contexts many times. Honestly, to me, it wreaks of cliche. But cliche or not, the Truth is the Truth. This life is our ONLY shot! If you believe in a higher power, karma, the after-life, hell, heaven, all or none of the above - the fact still remains that there is no part two, second act or encore after this life is over.

You are here NOW! Do your thing! As I have stated before, I am not, nor do I want to come off as the "morality police." If you are grown, able bodied and in your right mind, you are responsible for your choices and how you want to live. The point I am making is exactly that. Live! I am reminded of the lyrics from an old, obscure Doobie Brothers song from 30 years ago:

One by One
We're given these moments to live
Just as one by one
They're taken away