Another Farewell...

Another Farewell...

Where have I been? Johnny Frigo died on July 4, 2007 at age 90 and I only found out tonight.

Johnny Frigo was my fiddle hero. I first heard him in summer 2004 at the Elkhart Jazz Festival. He played to a packed house at the top of the old Elkhart House Hotel ballroom. I sat in the front row with my jaw hanging open. He was amazing.

Then about 18 months ago I saw that he was playing a public concert in Chicago. I knew he was in his upper 80s and I figured I wouldn't have many chances to hear him again. When I walked into the theater, Johnny was walking across the lobby with a crowd of well wishers and autograph seekers. He walked right up to me, shook my hand, and said "You look familiar!" I was so surprised - I'm quite sure he didn't remember me from two years ago prior, but who really knows.

He had a stage persona that is complete corn. Shtick. At the Chicago concert he did this whole routine where he brought out this bow that he said was from Bein & Fushi - the dealer of multimillion dollar fiddles in downtown Chicago. They loaned it to him to try out, so he started playing a tune and midway through, predictably, the bow shot out of his hand in a long arc across the stage. The whole band ground to a halt while he recovered the bow. I forget the rest of the punchline - who needs one? Then there was a famous story of appearing on Johnny Carson. Carson asked him why he waited so long to become famous, he replied, "Because there won't be enough time left for me to become a has-been."

Johnny played with such swing and style. He really rocked. I would like to have seen him in his prime - say in his late 70s. Because here is the amazing (and inspirational) thing: Johnny didn't start playing jazz fiddle until he retired at 65. He studied classical violin for a couple of years when he was a kid, then picked up bass and spent his working life playing bass on commercial jingles in downtown Chicago. It was only when he retired that he devoted all his time to the fiddle.

Maybe there is hope for me yet.