SKF NOTE: My high school friend and guitarist, Jimmy Weisbin, was listening to Charles Mingus’s classic “Mingus Ah Um” album on the Ralph Family stereo. Neil Ralph was another high school musician friend. His parents’ home in Centerport, NY was a welcoming gathering place for us aspiring musician. Plus it had the advantage of a great sounding stereo system.

During a “Mingus Ah Um” rapid fire drum solo, Weisbin declared, “That guy is the best drummer I’ve ever heard in my life!”

Inwardly I protested. It was a time in my musical education when I measured all drummers against Buddy Rich. Of course, my sophisticated ears picked up on points of technical sloppiness during Richmond’s solo Rich would never have made.

But not long after that listening session, I was at the 1971 Newport Jazz Festival where Mingus’s current band was making me understand, for the first time, the language of jazz. It seem to happen as quickly as flipping on a light switch. One second jazz was a mish-mash of confusing sounds. A second later is spoke to me as clear as Irish crystal.

Dannie Richmond was not Mingus’s drummer at the 1971 Festival. That honor belongs to Buffalo, NY drummer Virgil Day. And it was a riff played by pianist John Foster that actually turned on my jazz light.

But ever since the ’71 Festival I’ve felt a closeness to Mingus’s music. And I haven’t worked out the percentages, but in my lifetime all of Mingus’s best albums included Richmond.

While at Modern Drummer I phoned Richmond, offering him a MD feature interview. The details are sketchy. Richmond was playing in NYC the night I called. He invited me to come hear the band, and we agreed on a separate NYC time and place to meet for an interview.

Maybe I was broke, or tired. Maybe my car registration had expired. For some reason I did not make it to NYC to hear Richmond that night. In my weak defense I hadn’t promised to show up at Richmond’s gig. But neither did I give him an unequivocal no.

I had seen Richmond in concert with Mingus a couple of times. I saw him at The Maine Point club in Philadelphia when he was with the rock band Mark-Almond. And, by that time, I had listened to countless hours of Richmond on every Mingus album I could get my hands on.

In my mind there was no urgency to see Richmond play that night. It’s not as if I was unfamiliar with his drumming.

But when I did arrive in NYC at our appointed interview time, Dannie Richmond was the no-show.

We reconnected later by phone. Richmond confirmed his no-show was payback for my no-show. And our interview never happened.

What’s my lesson from that snafu? Honesty is the best policy. When Richmond invited me to NYC to hear his band, if I couldn’t make it – even if it was I didn’t have the money for tolls and parking – I should have put aside my ego and said so.

Instead, my good intentions for a Richmond interview collapsed and soured what might have been a good friendship.