Hanging out with rock stars ... who happen to be jazz musicians

 (Lots of pictures in this one. Enjoy!)

Finished product: See below.

As I said yesterday, our time with Mr. Marsalis was brief. He had two handlers with him, and they kept things moving along and discouraged people from hanging too close to Mr. Marsalis. And that’s fine. When it was announced that everyone who was to get pictures taken had had them taken, it was time for him to go, but in the meantime, several members of the band had made their way into the room.

I grabbed my Ted Nash and Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra CD and started looking for Ted. He was not there. I ended up next to drummer Ali Jackson and there was nobody talking to him at that moment. He had a big friendly smile and firm handshake, and he really looked genuinely glad to have someone to talk to. He signed my CD and we took a picture:

Ali, like any drummer, in a rhythm, so quick to sign my CD, we didn't get that shot, just this one. You can see how much fun I'm having, can't you?

Like any talented drummer, his energy was palpable. He practically broke my ribs when he slung his arm around me to take this picture. I told him I really liked his work with the quintet on the recording with Richard Galliano and he really lit up after that. “Oh, yeah. Thanks very much. That’s great. Thank you.” Just a very pleasant guy. I thanked him for the autograph, thanked him for coming down to Alabama and told him I looked forward to seeing him and the band again soon.

From there I made my way over to trombonist Chris Crenshaw. Funny (embarrassing) thing was, even though I knew who he was and I knew that Vincent Gardner was not on this trip (the very talented Andre Hayward subbing for him, unless there's been a personnel change I'm not aware of), I stuck out the CD and pen and said, “Can I have an autograph, Vincent?” And Chris, ever the gentleman, just grabbed the pen and CD, started signing, and said, “Sure. Sure. It’s Chris, actually.”

Chris, actually, signs my CD. I think I'm still blushing from my ID error.

 I realized my mistake and apologized. He just said, “It’s all good, man. It’s all good. Vince is a tall guy, too. We’re both tall.” That made me feel a little better. I complimented Chris on his singing (he's a wonderful vocalist) and thanked him, too, for playing in Alabama. He just said thanks. And yes, he's tall. 6'5" I'd say:

Don't worry. I can take him. I'll box him out for the rebound. (We mid-westerners know how to do that.)

Then, I found myself next to trumpeter Marcus Printup. Very cool guy. He asked my name and remembered it. He signed my CD: 

Marcus adds his signature. He's not getting my Conn trumpet. And, what the...? Left-handed! Just like his boss!

I told him how Herb Alpert always made me want to play trumpet, but I ended up at the piano instead. I even told him about my Conn 1941 trumpet and he said, “Oh, that’s a good one. Great instrument. Don’t ever sell that one, and if you do, sell it to me.” He had a couple of friends that kept distracting him, but I still got a decent picture with him. Did I mention he’s a very cool guy?

Marcus Printup and Eric. (Seriously, he's a cool guy.)

So, no Ted Nash (or Wynton Marsalis) signature, but I did have 20% of the band sign on the jacket, one from every section except the saxes. (See above.)

We briefly checked out the after party, which for us was free because we paid for the meet and greet. Good thing, too, because there was just this fairly decent band and drinks were not free (cash bar only), and we weren’t up for snacks and hanging out in the lobby, so we took this nondescript photo and then headed for home:

Sorry, don't know who they are, but they were good. Really, they were. Sirote Theatre is where we saw Bill Frisell.

 The ride home was pretty much like the ride down: wet, windy, and lit by lightning, but I’m not saying anything more about the weather, and that’s all I can say about meeting and greeting Wynton Marsalis and the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra.