A few weeks ago when I saw that Sonny Rollins would perform at the Orange County Performing Arts Center I got pretty pumped about it. I mentioned as much to my friend Jessie there and she passed it up the chain. To my amazement they said he’d be open to an interview to preview the show. I wasn’t amazed that the great folks at OCPAC would do that. I was surprised that Rollins would bother. It’s not like the guy needs the publicity. I mean, he’s Sonny freakin’ Rollins, OK? And if you don’t know who I’m talking about then you’re probably not that much into jazz, but take my word for it. They don’t call him the Saxophone Colossus for nothing. He’s a true luminary and his name deserves the same exaltation as Bird and Coltrane.

As the day grew closer for the phone interview anxiety seeped in. As I’ve written before, I was a rock critic some years ago and it never fazed me to interview them. Most of the rockers I chose to talk to weren’t huge names and the more famous of them still didn’t merit the kind of admiration I reserve for great artists. I was just telling a friend the other day about the times I met Gwendolyn Brooks, James Baldwin and Richard Ford. In each instance, I was a bit nervous. Actually, since I was still a teenager when I met Gwendolyn Brooks I was like a “Revenge of the Nerds” reject. Sonny Rollins isn’t a pop star or even someone famous. He’s a truly great American artist. To me, there’s a vast difference.

So I picked up a couple of his records that I didn’t have, including the absolutely excellent “Road Shows, Vol. 1,” which came out last year. I’ve also been listening to “Silver City: A Celebration of 25 Years on Milestone,” because I’m fascinated by that period after his second so-called sabattical when he delved into funk and R&B.

Still, something gnawed at me. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Did I have the right take on his career. Would I ask him stupid questions, cutting the legs out from under the interview?

I e-mailed a jazz musician friend of mine in Chicago and all he could suggest was that I ask him about his days recording with Bud Powell. Yes, that’s interesting fodder, but not specific enough, I thought. And I think most musicians shy away from talking about the past — they’d rather talk about what they’re doing now.

Minutes before my appointment with Rollins I racked my brain. Who else do I know is really into music? Then I remembered our Huntington Beach Independent columnist, Chris Epting. We both have a lot in common when it comes to music. He’d be a good person to call, I thought.

“Hello,” he whispered into the phone when I reached him.

“Chris? Is that you? It’s me, Paul from the Pilot.”

“Hold on, I’m at a tennis match.”

Oh man, what terrible timing, I thought. He’ll have to call me back and by then it’ll be too late. I underestimated Chris, of course. He got out of his seat and found a place to talk to me. I told him my dilemma and asked if he could help.

“Man, I looovvveee Sonny Rollins,” he said.

I should have known. I offered my take on Rollins’ career. He never struck me as too abstract a sax player. It’s not like he didn’t veer sometimes into the abstract, but it just wasn’t his raison d’etre. Even during the ’60s when jazz had morphed into “free jazz” and had often become so abstract that it didn’t even seem like jazz anymore, Rollins offered up generous dollops of melody. I mean, his stuff consistently seems so accessible. And I mean that in a good way. It probably explains why, in the ’70s and ’80s, he delved into funk and R&B-inflected jazz.

Chris agreed and added the greatness of Rollins was his respect for the song, the theme. I sighed with relief. So I’m not an idiot. Then Chris asked me to query Rollins about his work on the Stones’ “Tattoo You.” But, of course. We’re both a couple of Gen Xers — we have to know more about the last great Stones record and Rollins’ part in it.

I’ll write more about my interview with Rollins and I’ll write up a full feature for the print edition of the Pilot later, but here are some of the most remarkable takeaways from the interview: It went very well, Rollins is extremely humble and personable and the man still tries to practice two hours a day!

That made me feel bad. I’ve neglected my blog over the past several days — a combination of fatigue after the busy Toshiba week and my efforts to carve out a life outside of work. But there are no excuses. If Sonny Rollins, at his age, can still practice a couple of hours a day I can find time for my blog.

More later…. Stay tuned please….

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