MY RECENT BRUSH WITH GREATNESS
I’m finally home after 10 long days on the road. It was a typical mind-numbing trip with the exception of one brief brush with greatness. I was boarding a puddle jumper from
I’ve been playing the piano since I was in grade school and I minored in piano in college. I respect and admire many classical pianists but I actually enjoy listening to contemporary pop/rock and blues piano players more. I’m a fan of Elton John and Billy Joel like everyone else, but in my humble opinion, the two greatest contemporary players in the last few decades are Bruce Hornsby and Keith Green. Bruce had two hit albums in the late eighties. His third album didn’t sell as well as the first two, and the five since then have probably only been purchased by die-hard fans like me. Back in the eighties his big hits included, The Way it is, Mandolin Rain, and Every Little Kiss.” He’s probably most recognized as the piano player on Don Henley’s, The End of the Innocence. Bruce’s style is immediately recognizable, truly unique, and technically amazing. The best concert I ever attended was when he played the Brady Theater in
When it comes to hob-knobbing with celebrities, there is no one smoother than me, so I began the conversation with a statement and a question: “Man, your career must be in the toilet if you’re having to fly coach and sit next to me”, and “would it be ok, if I just stared at your hands for the entire flight?”. Ok…I didn’t really say those things, but both did go through my mind.
Actually, it was very odd. When I turned around on the jet way and saw him, I did a double-take that almost snapped my neck. It had to be painfully obvious that I recognized who he was, and that embarrassed me a little bit. He smiled at me, but didn’t say a word. As I got on the plane I expected everyone to point and “ooh and aah,” (at Bruce Hornsby, not at me) but no one seemed to recognize him at all. Not a single person tried to engage him in conversation or ask for his autograph. In fact, no one else seemed to have any idea who he was. I started to say something about a half dozen times, but ended up not saying a word. It must be very odd for a person to have been at the peak of popularity and then have that celebrity status fade away until they can take a commercial flight completely unrecognized.
As we stepped off the plane, we made eye contact and nodded and smiled again. As he walked off toward another gate I began to chide myself for not asking for an autograph. But then I thought, “what value would a signature on a piece of paper really have?” The real value is the countless hours of pleasure that listening to his music has brought me. I have that whether I have a scrap of paper or not. So, Bruce…..whatever flight you might be on at the moment, or whatever studio you might happen to be sitting in….thanks for playing.