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In the early 70s, a friend of mine worked for the University of Washington student newspaper, and one rainy Saturday morning he and an associate were assigned to interview Muddy Waters at his hotel room in downtown Seattle. They arrived at about 11:00 AM, and Muddy Waters, dressed in a purple velvet robe, answered the door personally. He graciously answered questions for 45 minutes as he sipped on a tall glass of what looked and smelled like straight gin. The experience of a lifetime.

The closest I came to that was when I ushered at Seattle Center, in the late 60s, early 70s, and was working a Count Basie concert. As I was lounging near the sound board an hour-and-a-half before the show, a roly-poly Count Basie, wearing a nautical hat, ambled out to get a look at the venue. He came over to me and chatted amiably and unpretentiously for a few minutes, then went backstage.