Linda stayed home with the kids,” I explained as I hung my coat up, hearing the sound of running feet rapidly approaching.“Uncle Dick!” My young...st nephew Timmy called out as he launched himself at me from the hallway, jumping up and wrapping his arms around my waist.“Hey, Timmy,” I greeted him with a laugh, clapping him on the back as he hugged me tight. “How’s it going?”“Did Aunt Linda come with you? Are Bobby and Lydia here too?” The young boy asked with the demanding nature only an 8 year. Though he loved classical music--especially Vivaldi, he started listening to jazz guitarists like Django Reinhart, Larry Coryell, Kenny Burrell and a few Delta Blues guitarists like Honey Boy Edwards, and somehow he combined all that into his own music. So, there he was playing background music in Mama’s Café on Friday and Saturday nights. Julie couldn’t pay him, but she gave him dinner and he could have a beer, or sometimes a glass of wine, and he would sit in the corner and play. He had a. More

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