Mickey Hart
I had an interesting experience while waiting for Nicole’s flight to arrive: I met Mickey Hart, one of the drummers of the Grateful Dead. I was coming up the escalator, and he was looking at me, and I looked at him, looked away, looked back, and then walked up to him. He was on the cellphone, and I didn’t want to intrude, but I said, “Mickey Hart?” and he nodded. I shook his hand, and moved on. His hand was slightly callused, and reminded me of shaking Jahmes’ hand, which is far more padded. A few minutes later, he was joined by Mike Gordon, bassist of Phish, and an older gent I didn’t recognize. I didn’t want to be the annoying fan who spotted the celebrities, so I kept to myself.
What an interesting experience. It was somewhat surreal, seeing a guy I had only seen in concert, or on album covers and videos, standing right in front of me. I sent an sms to my buddy Ryan, and he told me the Rhythm Devils were playing in Milwaukee.
After I left the airport, I remembered I had read two books by Mickey Hart a long time ago, and had thoroughly enjoyed them both.
Even later, I was mulling over the notion that they were waiting for a late ride, and Mickey may have assumed I was the driver, which was why he was looking right at me as I got to the top of the escalator.
My devoted readers may note that I haven’t stopped thinking about this. Roman is starstruck. I shook Mickey Hart’s hand.
Tiffy,
How your travels are well. I didn’t really meet Mickey Hart, I only shook his hand. We didn’t converse, unfortunately. Perhaps we shall again someday.