The thrill really is gone

Posted: May 15, 2015 in music

This has got to stop. Now B.B. King is dead? Every day I have the blues!

I hope that when I’m 88, I’m still writing, the way King was still playing. I also hope that someday I’ll be 88.

The New York Times has an excellent summary of the man’s life in today’s edition. The last three paragraphs are the best:

“Growing up on the plantation there in Mississippi, I would work Monday through Saturday noon,” he said. “I’d go to town on Saturday afternoons, sit on the street corner, and I’d sing and play.

“I’d have me a hat or box or something in front of me. People that would request a gospel song would always be very polite to me, and they’d say: ‘Son, you’re mighty good. Keep it up. You’re going to be great one day.’ But they never put anything in the hat.

“But people that would ask me to sing a blues song would always tip me and maybe give me a beer. They always would do something of that kind. Sometimes I’d make 50 or 60 dollars one Saturday afternoon. Now you know why I’m a blues singer.”

RIP, B.B. King. If there’s a life after death, perhaps you’ll meet the real Lucille.

  1. Barb says:

    Early 1990s: Jon Hale and I rode the Harley over to the little amphitheater at Portland’s International Rose Test Garden. There, amongst the fragrant roses and twilight summer grassy levels, we enjoyed a laid-back BB King and a supercharged Buddy Guy do what they do best. Amazing guitars, genuinely happy human beings. Bless BB King’s soul; I have a shining piece of it in me.

  2. Barb says:

    Rolling Stone online has an interesting story about why BB King named his guitars Lucille.

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