Something remarkable happened yesterday….At least, to ME, it was remarkable.
Years ago, my British friend had a membership to the Foundation Room (shown above) in New Orleans. This is the exclusive “back room” at the House of Blues where we would go to hang out with her friends and, often the band members that played there. It seemed that a lot of rock stars’ wives and girlfriends would hang out in the Foundation Room when they went on tour with their significant others, so sometimes, we would hang with them. My friend knew a lot of them, and I knew some of them, so between us, it seemed we were always surrounded by interesting people there.
I recall one night when a very famous British rock musician played. (You will understand shortly why I don’t want to mention his name.) He was headliner for a band that topped the charts for many, many years and subsequently became as successful as a solo musician. He is noted today as one of the most innovative guitarists in the world. His brother played in the band as well, and has also become a successful solo artist, but at that point, I had not met him.
We sat around a big table that night and discussed liberal politics and philosophy. It was a bold and enthusiastic discussion, full of laughter, dry wit and intelligence. I was titillated by the discussion much more than I was by the fact that this rock idol was sitting right next to me. Because of my work, I had been around enough famous people by that time that I was no longer star-struck, and I have never been impressed by anyone just because they happen to play music.
This man was absolutely brilliant, but he drank too much. (I think K. and I were the only people in the entire room that were not inebriated. Even when in New Orleans, I don’t drink much.) After that event, K. and I, and a couple of the musician’s friends, were invited to get into his limo with him where were driven to a second club. Another great discussion ensued with some other musician friends of his. Very nice group of people. We danced a little, but talked, way into the wee hours of the dawn. It was a great evening.
So….fast forward to present times….
Awhile back, a musician friend introduced me to the aforementioned famous musician’s brother, also a former member of the same band, and also now turned solo artist. We added one another on Facebook. I followed his music and career and politics on Facebook, but had never really interacted with him….until yesterday.
Yesterday, I logged into Facebook and had received a private message from the aforementioned famous brother. “I dig your politics,” he said. “You are a very intelligent woman!” I jotted a quick note of thanks, referred him to some political websites that I enjoy and thought that would be the end of it…but it wasn’t. He responded….and we began a back-and-forth exchange. We talked about an article that I shared with him about an African tribe that claims to be musically influenced by his former rock band. We talked about where we live and what we enjoy in life. We had a long discussion about Texas and its blend of backward fundamentalist rednecks amongst pockets of intelligent people. We talked about mullets. We talked about animals. We talked about A LOT of things…and the chat was long and funny and really nice.
The topic of music came up, and I asked him if he knew my friend of 30+ years, Arthur Brown, who had the 1968 hit record, “I Am the God of Hellfire”. “I LOVE that song,” was his reply…so I posted a video of it on my Facebook. He responded there by joking, “I hope FB and YouTube get hit by a 10 billion dollar copyright infringement suit from PRS et al“.” Funny guy.
It had been awhile since I’d had a chat of that caliber with anyone that smart, let alone famous. I enjoyed it thoroughly. When I signed on to Facebook this morning, there was another note from him saying how much he had enjoyed the chat as well. “Keep in touch,” he said.
I told my husband about this encounter this morning. “I’ve always loved those guys!” he said.
“Yeah….you and the rest of the world.” I said.
These times make me smile.