Vale: BB King.

I'm not sure when I first became aware of BB King, but I suspect it was in my Blues Brothers days when I'd hang out with Rob and listen to vinyl by artists like Solomon Burke and Sonny Terry. I do remember being captivated by those sweet little licks he'd play. Nothing flashy, nothing difficult, but no excess either. Every note told a story, and the story was the blues.

I saw BB King only once, sometime in the 80s. What a great show! I would have loved to have seen him again, and again, but it wasn't to be. And now it's too late.

If you haven't read his autobiography, I recommend that you do so as soon as possible. He truly was poor, being the son of a sharecropper, picking cotton as a child and basically living alone from the age of ten. He had a real tough start to his life, but it speaks testaments to the man that he did what he did from those humble beginnings.

Last night I played two BB King albums back to back and raised a glass of red wine to his memory.

He was 89.