Witnessing the MASTERS!

When I was about 19 years old I had the pleasure of seeing the great SleepyJohn Estes. It was my first exposure to a real Delta Blues player.Being one of the best guitar players in my neighborhood made me a way coolguy in the sixties ,but, there was a guy named Wayne Watson in myneighborhood who could play better then me. I thought, once I got betterthan him I could get a gig with the Rolling Stones, or at the very least aband of that stature. A sad thought process; that's where I was coming fromthat day leaning against a tree, at a workshop performance in a WashingtonDC folk festival. I looked way too cool to understand the magnitude of whatwas about to happen to me.Sleepy John sat at the side of a small plywood stage that was just aboutground level, looking to this foolish guitar player about 150 years old. Ithough what is that old guy doing there. Then two guys just about carriedhim center stage, set his guitar in his lap, placing his hands on theguitar. I thought, man what the, then it happened ! He never looked up, hejust beat the hell out of the guitar and played and sang with the intensityof a space shuttle launch. I can't convey to you the shock amazement, evensome jealousy that went through me. He was unbelievably cool. He soundedlike nothing I had ever heard, and soul, man he didn't care if I or anyoneelse was there or not, he was just letting it out! For the life of me Icould not figure out why this music was not a national treasure. He flooredme and set me squarely on my rear. It was clear I had a lot of work to do. Ifelt then, and now, nothing could ever match what he was, but I sure had totry.I think in general, in The United States, this music is still underrated andit is also trivia1ized.The honesty and shear soul of this music we call Blues is something that isvery very rare.Thank You! Sleepy John!