So I'm sitting in the barbershop the other day, waiting for an open chair, reading the paper, when I come across this little article:

Jazz organist Lyman Woodard dies at age 66

Now the odds are that the vast majority of you have never heard of Lyman Woodard, and those of you who do have a Michigan- or more specifically, a Detroit- connection. I knew Lyman from his time playing for a band named the Sun Messengers, a really fine rock/funkl/jazz outfit for whom Lyman played the Hammond B3 organ. Lyman was a great guy to share a drink with, but what I'll remeber him for the most is the joy he demonstrated every time he was playing his instrument, and the fact that he was such a wonderful player.

At least a decade has passed since I last saw Lyman, but every time I heard a recording featuring a Hammond B3, I thought of him. Now I imagine him at that great jam in the sky, cigarette burning on an ashtray just within reach, eyes half closed, head tilted back, grinning like you've never imagined, coaxing a wail out of his B3....Thanks for the memories, Lyman. Rest assured: I'll never forget. think of Lyman.