Me and B. B. King

So I'm at this concert in Toronto -- I think it was at Massey Hall -- and I'm not in the audience, I'm standing in the wings. The stage is real dark and there is a single spot light focused on an old black dude sitting on a stool playing guitar. He opens his mouth and he starts to sing.

I recognize the song -- Every Day I Have the Blues -- and I silently sing along with the man on stage. When the song ends, B. B. King looks over to the side of the stage and catches sight of me.

"Hey, man," he shouts out to me, "How you been keeping?"

"I've been fine," I reply.

"How's the diabetes?" he asks with the concern of an old friend.

"It's under control," I lie. "But I still hate testing my blood," I decide to tell a truth, "Makes my fingers real sore."

B. B. King grins at me. "I told you the brand to use, man."

The great blues hero turns to the audience and announces in a grand voice, "Folks, it is my genuine pleasure to introduce a dear friend and a sometime colleague of mine."

He waves me on, so I join him on stage. He asks if I brought my guitar, and I tell him I didn't. (To be perfectly honest, I don't even own a guitar.) When he hears this, he hands me the famous Lucille and he asks me to play the folks my signature song.

As I take his place on the stool, B. B. King stands by a mike and softly says, "There's some that says the best blues are Chicago blues. There's some that says the best blues are Mississippi delta blues. Well, folks, the man you're about to hear ain't never been to Chicago and he doesn't come from the Mississippi delta. Put your hands to together and welcome my good friend, Little Jimmy Phillips, king of the Mississauga delta blues."

At this point I started laughing and woke myself up from the dream. Too bad -- I'll always wonder how the Mississauga delta blues compare to the ones from Mississippi.