It was a beautiful early October evening in Royal Oak, Michigan. I had driven over 100 miles after work, which made for a long day, but I welcomed the opportunity to see Marcus Miller live. I parked my car near the theater poised to hit the highway immediately after the show was over. I had plenty of time so I headed on foot toward the business district in search of a restaurant. I soon came upon what was obviously the main drag. I looked left and right trying decide which way to go. I saw a small cafe with some outdoor seating to the right, so I headed that way. When I got there, to my utter amazement and delight, there sat Marcus with Lalah Hathaway (she opened the show). I took a table where I could see them. They weren't far as it was a small patio. It seemed incredible that nobody seemed to recognize him. He was wearing his trademark hat and a Miles Davis t-shirt. I sat there and tried to think of some way or reason to approach him. I didn't want to intrude, but I wanted to tell him that I was a big fan and had all of his records, and was especially appreciative of his work with Sanborn. I just couldn't get the nerve. I wanted to ask for his autograph, but I didn't have a pen or anything to sign. Rats. I never would have guessed that I would have an opportunity like this. I just sat there and watched and eventually he got up to leave.
He walked directly in front of me, and I wanted to say something, but I couldn't think of anything that didn't seem trite. He saw me watching him, and he gave me a slight nod of acknowledgment. I couldn't tell if he knew that I knew who he was, or just thought that I was some idiot who didn't know any better than to stare. Then he was gone. The show, as you might have guessed, was great.

   That's the story. I was sorry that I didn't speak to him, but figured that maybe he would have appreciated the fact that I respected his privacy. Maybe he would have welcomed the opportunity to hear from someone who recognized and admired him. This episode made me wonder whether I'd have the nerve to say anything to Sanborn. Little did I know that I would get my chance to find out.

***

   It was August 1, 1996, a simply gorgeous evening at Cannonsburg ski area just outside of Grand Rapids, Michigan. This evening's performance was part of a series called "Picnic With Pops" which consisted of various artists performing with the Grand Rapids Symphony. There was a large bandshell with a number of picnic tables in front of it, and lots of space to spread out blankets behind the tables. People were encouraged to bring packed picnics with them to enjoy during the show. Having secured my ticket early, I was at a table towards the front and off to one side.

   As I wandered around near the bandshell before the show, I could hear David warming up in the back. I tried to walk around to catch a glimpse of him, but was stopped by security. Oh well, it was worth a try.

   The first portion of the show was just the symphony, and I was pretty bored so I was looking around and I saw David by himself heading toward the lodge! As the audience watched the show, oblivious to the great one, I jumped up and tried to catch him. By the time I got up the stairs which lead up to the area in front of the lodge, he had disappeared. I reasoned he had to be in the lodge. I walked in and looked around. I went into every area and room looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

   When I went back outside, he was just about at the stairs, so I hustled over and caught up with him as he was on the stairs. I was pretty nervous, but I knew I couldn't squander this opportunity. With his back to me as he ascended the stairs I said "Excuse me". He turned around with a smile on his face, dressed in black slacks and shirt, and a nice pair of shades. I said "I can't believe you're here" because it seemed so surreal -- standing face to face with my idol in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I asked if I could shake his hand, and he obliged. I didn't want to bore him with the same gushing comments that I'm certain he hears all the time, but I couldn't think of what else to say. I wanted to impress upon him how big a fan of his I am, and how much his playing means to me. I said something to that effect, and he said "Thanks. Enoy the show". I told him I was certain I would. Very nice and friendly guy. I was elated.

   I did enjoy the show, of course. This was just after "Pearls" had been released, and they played mostly tunes from that, including a version of "Everything Must Change" which pretty much rendered me ecstatic. Hearing him live is so incredible. Gil Goldstein was there on keyboards, and Chris Minh Doky was on acoustic bass.

   I hung around following the show reasoning that he had to eventually go from the bandshell to the lodge. After quite a while, an entourage headed over to the lodge as I observed from the deck. Trying to get my courage up to wander inside and see if I could meet him again, I finished my bottle of wine and bided my time. I had a pretty good buzz on, and figured, what the hell. When I finally went into the lodge, I saw that there was a lavish set-up to treat important employees/friends of the corporate sponsor, a local bank. After some debate, I decided to just walk in and pretend like I belonged there. Nobody seemed to care so I just hung out and observed people talking to David, getting his autograph, and having pictures taken with him. As the crowd thinned out and it was apparent that they were about ready to lead David out, I stepped up and started talking to him again. I had overheard him talking about a new album and I asked him what it was like. He said it was more like his older stuff. He asked if I remembered the song "Spooky", and I said I vaguely remebered it. He said that was going to be on it. I asked if Marcus was on it. He said no, not this one. Bummer. He said it would be released on September 24, and sure enough, it was (Songs From The Night Before). After a little more chit chat, he signed my program, we shook hands, and then he left.

   Pretty cool evening. The same performance occurred the following evening, which, of course, I attended. His playing was great, as usual, but the evening didn't quite to measure up to the previous one when I met and spoke with the one and only David Sanborn.