I need to learn Braille

Two bar stories to start the day. One will make my friend Grant swear with envy, and one that'll make him laugh. Spot the common thread.

I was at The Local tonight, and got to chatting music with Sean. Whilst chatting, he told his "best show ever" story.

It was probably the late 80s and Sean was all of 17 years old, in Quebec City for a swim meet. It was Sunday night, nothing to do, so someone recommended checking out this young guitarist playing at this little club downtown. So the boys go down there and pay the $5 or $6 to get in. Maybe 20 people are there. A blind guitarists makes his way onstage and starts playing.

It's Jeff Healey. Jeff. Freaking. Healey. Young Jeff, pre-Road House, Healey, wailing on the guitar. Sean is blown away, sits through 2 sets.

Third set starts, Jeff tells the crowd "There's a friend of mine in town tonite, I'd like to ask him to come onstage and join me for a set."

It's Stevie Ray Vaughan. Stevie. Ray. F'in. Vaughan.

They then proceed to cover Jimi Hendrix tunes for 40 minutes or so.

It would be at this point that Jason and Grant, having emerged from their Time Machine or Tardis, proceed to die of bliss.

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Which leads to my story.

A few years ago, Grant invited me to meet him and Glenn at Jeff Healey's bar in downtown Toronto. Glenn is a blind co-worker of Grant's, a real stand-up guy. Well, apparently Glenn went to a blind school with Jeff Healey.

I go to the bar, meet the guys, sit through a set by Jeff and then meet him after the show. Hell of a nice guy, reputed to have one of the best vintage jazz album collections in the country, just great to be around him. I'm having the time of my life, Jeff is buying a round. Jeff and Glen are telling school stories. You assume when you're blind, that you act a little more carefully, like when you're sighted and the lights go out, you move slow so you don't stub a toe. Not Jeff and Glenn: "Remember when you fell off that roof that time?" "Yeah, how about when you jumped off that bridge?"

It's all good. I get up to go to the washroom. There's a step-up to reach the bathrooms and I trip on it as I go in. I return to the table and mention to Jeff how I almost tripped on the ledge. He laughs and tells me that the banister (the railing on the staircase) on the way down to the club has Braille written under it, so when if you read Braille and feel it under the rails you walk down, it will read: "Don't tell the sighted guys, but there's a step up to reach the washrooms. They'll trip and we'll have a laugh." Glenn laughed and said "Oh yeah, you didn't notice."

I believed that story for 3 f$#&ing years. I'm told Glenn still laughs about it.

*sigh* good thing i'm so pretty, 'cause stupid don't pay the bills.

Jeff Healey: world class blues-rock guitarist. Funny guy.


PS If anyone remembers me telling a story about how Jeff Healey showed up at a gig and jammed on trumpet, email me. I can't remember the damned details, but I remember him joining a band onstage and playing horns. I know I saw him do this, I just can't remember for the life of me where. May have been the same night.

Jeff Healey - Wikipedia