John Fahey wrote ‘How Bluegrass Music Ruined My Life’ I believe it was called.
He was a brilliant composer, musician, writer, impresario, who was homeless and crazy for awhile and lived and died within my lifetime.
A girl I knew in 1977 traveling through Canada called me up a few months ago. We hadn’t been in touch since the night Elvis Presley died. In the intervening years she became an almost world renowned singer and musician; I didn’t know that was her; her name, appearance, abilities changed. She saw a man on the street who suddenly reminded her of that boy from a long ago. It was me; neither of us recognized each other in passing, neither of us were usually in that city. And she called me a few weeks later; I was surprised it was that easy.
She said that I had introduced her to John Fahey’s work and I told her that she had introduced him to me.