There's a commotion. A well-dressed black man sails through the lobby, followed by a flurry of news crews and paparazzi. I rarely recognize celebrities, so I expect to draw a blank on this one, but when he stops and turns around about fifteen feet from where I'm sitting I get quite the surprise. James Brown! And he's giving a press conference practically in my lap.
Sadly, I was unable to get tickets to that evening's show, though I would have liked to.
He was a character. By all accounts he was a righteous bastard. And he was a damned fine musician, one of the all-time greats.