Memorable Meetings: Donald Fagen

I moved to New York for college in 2007 and, shortly after arriving, began an internship at the Blue Note Jazz Club, NY. A year or so after that began, trumpeter Charles Tolliver was performing at Town Hall with his big band. Since Tolliver was also performing at the Blue Note a few weeks later, I was sent to Town Hall the night of that performance to hand out flyers advertising his upcoming Blue Note performance.

I was handing out flyers at intermission when an older man approached me to take one. After he took it, he stood in front of me, staring inquisitively at it for a few seconds. Something about him appeared rather sad, so I asked him how he was doing. He told me that he was okay, that he played a little piano, but that watching the pianist performing with Tolliver that evening (Stanley Cowell) made him realize that he'd never be able to play in a similar style to what he had heard that night, which is the kind of piano he always wished he could play. He continued along this slightly depressing, self critical path for a few more minutes. Had it not occurred to me that something about him looked familiar, I would've walked away from that conversation thinking that I had just spoken with an older man who had had a lifelong passion for music but hadn't done anything to realize these dreams besides maybe taking a few piano lessons, and that all of this reality was finally hitting him as he and I spoke. As I listened to this man let off so much steam, I tried to figure out why he looked so familiar. It took a minute more or so to figure it out, but finally I thought I had it, and, based off of the things I had just listened to this man say to me about himself, I couldn't believe what I was about to ask him. I opened my mouth to speak: 'Wait a sec,' I said. 'Are you Donald Fagen?'

'Yes,' he responded.

Shocked to learn that this depressed sounding, extremely self critical old man was actually a musical icon and genius - not to mention a fantastic pianist -, I was unsure of how to respond. Luckily, we both chuckled a bit and I said something like, "Well, you've done very well!" He responded (and I'm paraphrasing here): "Yes, but I really wish I could play like Red Garland. I've wanted to be able to play like him since I was a teenager, and I've never been able to and know that I won't ever be able to."

An interesting and instructive lesson; no matter how much you accomplish, if you're honest with yourself and have a modicum of humility, you'll always know what you need to work on and what's important to you."