A long long time ago, when I was nothing but a teenage band dropout with a bad bass clarinet habit, I ended up on a school trip to Sacramento to debate at the state level. The debates were held at the Hyatt, where we also stayed for the night.

After the debates, there was a dance for the kids in the ballroom, and they had moved their grand piano out into the entry hall to make room. Being completely socially awkward, I ended up at the piano outside the dance, and start plinking away. My friend Rachel, also on the team, stopped by to hang out for a bit as the dance wound down.

It was then when he walked up. There’s no other way to describe him other than White Trash Superfly - flowing greasy blond hair, scent of Lucky Strikes, and the strut of Mic Jagger.

“Not bad kid,” he said, listening to me plink away. “You play the Blues?”

“Not really…”

“His music is more classical,” said Rachel.

Superfly laughed. “The Blues are universal, sweetheart. You just gotta let them flow. Slide over, I’ll take the bass.”

And he did. An incredible rolling bass line in C minor that made the hallway rumble, beat, and hum. I could feel it lifting me, a song not composed, but felt, something already there but given voice through his fingers. And as it rolled up from under the ivory, I could hear the melody, even though he wasn’t playing it - almost as if he was summoning it from the air.

I was timid, overwhelmed, but I reached out and began to play. And it was electric.

The music came unbidden, swooping arcs and pirouettes, the song of the air sparkling through my hands. I became entranced, completely focused on the new frequency of thought and inspiration pouring through me.

“Oh yeah, that’s it!” Superfly laughed, but I barely heard him. It was all I could do to keep up with him. My melody may have been the wind, but his was the waves, and they rolled and tossed that rollicking twelve bars all the way up and down the hall, building into a tidal wave that crashed down into…

Applause??

I looked up. We were surrounded by an audience - kids had come out of the dance to come and listen to us.

“Thanks kid,” said Superfly as he stood up with a grin. “Keep playing.”

And he walked out without another word, leaving Rachel speechless, and me with stars in my eyes.

Thirty years later, and I still think of Superfly every time I sit down to play. “The Blues are universal, sweetheart. You just gotta let them flow.”