On a New Orleans street, down one of her pretty lanes, I saw him once. Playing under the moon-light. And man, did he play a mean Sax. The way it flowed so smoothly, the music seemed to pop. Dancing through my ears, I could see the musical notes, and they just wouldn't let go. So on that pretty little New Orleans street, under the glow, I watched that man play so smooth it was like marble, and nothing could etch itself into its posture. Up and down the scales flowed. This man, this scruffy Negro on that New Orleans night with only that sweet Sax to catch my breath. And man, it sure did.
And I stood an watched him a while, in my slight fascination, but I was captivated, and that there fellow, that man playing that Saxophone ringing all through the bayou, he gone and he says to me:
"Naw, you waren't expectin no of tha Blues trash, now wah you sah?"
And I say to that Gentlemen, "Hell no. That there is the best damn musack I ever did hear,"
And that man playing that Saxophone in E major, he gone and he smiled a big deep smile. And he put that Saxophone up to his mouth. And I watched his big lips purse, and his eyes shine. And then he played so smooth. He played so smooth, I could see the mountains, and the rivers. I could see the brooks and the gullies. I could see every man who ever did become something, and then I could near see every pretty girl who danced in a hall, with her skirt flyin high around her legs, and her arms like lightning all around. And then he puffed his cheeks. And he played so big and loud, I thought those boozers down Bourbon street coulda heard. But it aint no worry to me. I was lost in the sound, floatin on downstream on a wave of that bold golden saxophone.
The man, he stopped a moment, to catch his breath and he says to me. He gone and says:
"You eva hear somthin that sweet bifore?"
And I say to the man, playing so sweet and full under the moonlight: "No Mister. It's like the music you'd hear at heavens gates. Like angels are all around, dancing like little fireflies"
"Ain't it? Ain't it the sweetest prettiest thang"
And I just nodded and asked him to play more. And that saxophonist was happy enough to oblige me.
And on that New Orleans street, I ain't never heard somthin so sweet. And nobody but myself stopped to listen to this man playing. Albeit, I had never been in New Orleans before. I got to supposing that this kinda thing must be a kind of a norm on these little streets. The man, now I tried to look past his grand instrument and into his soul. For the music did his soul justice. He played like the gentlemen he was. You could see him feelin the music, like he was dancin with the angels himself. And so, he went on and on. Blasting that pretty music all through the streets. I let him play and play. He played in a white suit and a white tie, and shiny black shoes, and he was sharp dressed. Like a true music man.
And when the great bells on the churches all around began to chime midnight, I realized how long I was lost in that pretty little wave. His continuous song. And I told him, that great music man, that I really must be goin. But before leavin, I shook his hand. And I felt his handshake was as smooth as his music. And I asked him what his name was and he tells me "Big John" in his deep rusty voice.
And I tell him: "Now, I got the misses waitin on me. I best be leavin"
And Big John he asks me for just a quarter. Says so he can help feed his family.
So I smiled that big wide grin that Big John first cracked at me when I first complimented his mastery, and I go and give him a big five dollar bill. And he smiles so bright and thanks me so much. And I always told him, I would come back and see him, see that pretty saxophone and those dancing angels, but I never did. But while I was in Big Johns company, I felt as though I had been harked by those angels themselves. Now I suppose that's the grand great power of music. Next time I go to the bayou, I'll be sure to walk down that street, hopping along with the saxophone, whether he's there or not. You see, that's the real beauty of that music. That music you hear, that pretty little song you know, it can't and won't never die. Music lives on forever.
