A Brush With Celebrity

Wednesday evening I took a beginner's photography class. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I sure didn't expect a brush with celebrity.

It started out innocently enough. I left my house in plenty of time to drive downtown, park, and find the room in which the class was held.

About halfway to town, I realized that I had forgotten to bring along some paper for copious note taking. I figured it wouldn't be too big of deal because the instructor most likely had some type of handout or cheat sheet to give us newbies and I could flip that paper over to take notes. I've taught beginning computer classes for adults for years, so I know how these things work. Instructors for newbie classes are supposed to have handouts.

Well, I was wrong.

Tom (the instructor) didn't have any handouts. No outline of the class. No cheat sheet. No contact information for our middle of the night photo emergencies.

Pooey.

I turned to the guy sitting on one side of me to bum a piece of paper. It was either that or try to take extensive notes on a gum wrapper that I found in my purse. Not even a big gum wrapper like your Juicy Fruits or Hubba Bubbas, but a tiny little Trident wrapper. The only thing smaller would have been a Bazooka Joe wrapper and I haven't chewed Bazooka Joe in a long time.

Anyhoo, I was settling into my chair with my yellow lined note paper and my pen when another student entered the room. He was slighty disheveled, bearded, and wore a tie dye tshirt. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him right away.

He sat on the other side of me. Then he bummed a piece of paper off of the guy sitting on the other side of him. I instantly felt a connection to the dude. The lack of preparedness connection. It's universal.

Still didn't help me place the guy.

I busied myself over the next two hours taking notes, learning about f-stops, depth of field, ISO numbers and (for whatever reason) humming "Uncle John's Band" and "Touch of Grey". But I couldn't stop trying to put a name on the familiar guy. I went through my mental index of relatives, former classmates, former students, and local politicians, but I couldn't place this guy.

Then he turned around and I got a good look at his face. This is what I saw (minus the guitar, of course):

I'm 98% sure that I sat next to Jerry Garcia.

You know, lead singer of the Grateful Dead?

Inspiration behind Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream flavor?

Yep. Jerry Garcia.

I had no idea that he'd moved to the area. Then I wondered why he'd move to this area. Then I remembered that this is prime farmland and perhaps Jerry just … you know … grows his own now. Get my drift?

I'm not proud to admit that it took me the remaining hour of the class to realize that Jerry Garcia was dead and has been for a while now. Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake. Sometimes I'm still on the entry ramp when everyone else has entered the freeway.

I had no idea what to expect with this beginner's photography class. But I sure didn't expect a brush with celebrity.

Even a dead one.

It was such a good class.

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