Anyway...that�s what diaries are for, aren�t they - to rant about the things that annoy/bug/piss you off?

Luvofmylife and I went to a BBQ party yesterday that was given by one of the cast members at the Theatre Company we�re working at. He�s in his twenties and so were half the people there. The rest of us were (and still are) downright creaky. There was a fair amount of mingling early on (I�m not the best mingler at the best of times...in any age group) but it was interesting to see how the generations clustered over the course of the evening.

At one point one of the youths said something about how young people (younger than him, I presume) crinkle their noses at the mention of U-2, how old and what a bunch of has-beens they are and how ugly Bono is. All his friends moaned in forlorn regret over that.

Jeez, I didn�t want to get into any of the stars of my youth. It just would have been too pathetic.

It did start me thinking of one in particular, though - Lenny Breau.

Lenny Breau was an absolutely magical jazz guitarist who hailed from Winnipeg in the 60's and 70's. He was known mostly to musicians and never quite made it to fame and fortune. Lenny Breau was the kind of musician who�s instrument seemed a part of him - that he never had to think about it. Kinda like a runner might take her/his legs for granted. The music just flowed from Lenny�s brain to his instrument - the guitar merely a translator for his thoughts.

All Lenny cared about was his guitar. His personal life was a mess and he had a long history with substance abuse - whatever substance he could find, really.

I met Lenny back in the early eighties in Winnipeg when my company was there to record his concert for national broadcast. I was the Engineer. He was on a five city homecoming tour of Canada. Winnipeg was special because he was kinda-sorta from there. It was really special for me because I was a guitar player and I idolized him from my childhood.

When Lenny came onto the backstage area I was shocked. I knew he was short but he was hunched over and could barely walk or talk. We did a sound check that afternoon and he had a short rehearsal with his old Winnipeg backup band.

That was some of the best playing I�d ever heard in my life. Lenny didn�t need a band. He could play bass, solos and accompaniment all at the same time. It�s like he had four hands.

However, I guess his ex decided to send a lawyer to Lenny�s hotel room when she heard he�d be in town. He served Lenny with a summons for alimony or something. That�s all it took to set him off. By the time he got to the concert (his tour manager actually had to fetch Lenny out of bed) he didn�t even know his name.

The venue was a 2000 seat concert hall and it was packed - mostly with musicians. This guy, who could play like a god, couldn�t even see the strings let alone play them. It was nothing but chicken scratches. People boo�d and walked out. By the end of the concert, there was only half a house and the remaining audience was sobbing.

Needless to say our recording was a write-off. Luckily we had some of the rehearsal on tape and we managed a pretty respectable interview. The show became a documentary.

A few years later, Lenny Breau was found with a bullet in his head, face down in a swimming pool on the roof of an apartment building in LA................

Arc