It was about 1986 or 1987 when my older and wiser brother Frank heard that I was planning a trip to New Orleans. To prepare me for my trip, he sent me a cassette tape – Professor Longhair’s Rock ’n’ Roll Gumbo. I wasn’t expecting much, since I had a somewhat narrow, guitar-centric view of the musical world that began with Sixties and Seventies Top Forty, continued through Springsteen and ended with British New Wave. New Orleans Rhythm and Blues wasn’t even a side interest, and the only piano player I liked was Jerry Lee Lewis.
The day I received the tape in the mail was one I was working the 1:00 PM – 9:30 PM shift in the newspaper room at the Library of Congress. As I set off for work that day in my little Datsun 210, I popped the cassette in the player to give it a listen, for Frank’s sake. Holy mackerel! When the music blasted through the tinny speakers, I was overwhelmed. Professor Longhair’s rollicking, rocking, raucous and totally soulful intro to the opening track, “Hey Now Baby,” had my mouth open in disbelief. When he started singing, I pulled the car over, rewound the tape to the beginning and listened to the intro again. And again. I had never heard anything like it. That’s all it took – a forty-seven second immersion – I was hooked. Pretty soon, I had all of his easily obtained albums and was searching for the obscure ones. From the Professor, it was then a short hop to the other great New Orleans pianists – James Booker, Tuts Washington, Allen Toussaint and Dr. John. I couldn’t get enough of that wonderful stuff.
Then I decided that I too would become a practitioner of the art. I wanted to know what it felt like to be able to play like that. So, I bought an electronic keyboard with a stand, progressed lesson by lesson in a teach yourself to play piano book, and studied the videotapes, Dr. John Teaches New Orleans Piano, lessons one and two. I worked at it and waited for the magic to happen. Well, I am here to tell you that some people are born to be piano geniuses, others are born to be competent pianists, then there are the rest of us. It was obvious from the start that I was born to be a librarian – not a New Orleans piano professor. So, the aspiration began to die.
One night, though, as I slept, I found myself at a piano playing like only one man ever could. Glancing at my hands flying over the keys, I saw that my short, white fingers had been transformed and were long, graceful and brown. They were pounding out effortlessly a crowd-pleasing version of “Tipitina.” Folks were crowded around me and the piano. They were cheering and in awe of my magic. And this is how it felt – it felt MARVELOUS.
Yes, I was Professor Longhair … in my dreams.