Champaign, Chicago, New Orleans, Vero Beach (1998-1999)

I met Brian Robinson at Chick Bait’s... 

I mean, ParTea’s... 

Um, Shawn ‘Til Dawn’s... 

No, Shawn’s apartment. Phew.  

“Chick Bait” was one of Shawn’s many self-appointed nicknames and inspired the vanity license plate on his Geo Tracker: “CHICK B8”. Sounds about right for 1998 college life, doesn’t it?   

Shawn and Brian met in business class at the University of Illinois. Brian and I started hanging out during weekend parties in Champaign. Talked music. Cracked jokes. Raised glasses.  

My friendship with Brian really took off that summer after I finished my Master’s degree in Advertising at Illinois. I was in the final months of my paid fellowship at the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers research lab writing content and managing the lab’s website. Brian stayed in Champaign to take a class and work. 

I worked mornings. 8:00 am ‘til noon. I’d go for a run when I got home, which kept most afternoons and evenings free. So Brian and I started to hang out again reminiscing about our days and nights with “CHICK B8” - sorry - Shawn and friends. 

If You Need Us, We’ll Be Poolside
Brian worked for one of the realty companies in town and had access to the pool at the college apartments on First Street. We spent many afternoons at that pool.  

It’s the same pool - or was it who was at the pool? - that turned the heads of me and my coworkers when we drove by back in my bus-stop-shelter-cleaning days at the Mass-Transit District (MTD). 

Beyond poolside time, Brian and I started going to a few bars together. Joe’s Brewery was a regular stop for dance night. Illini Inn and White Horse were also on the A-list of go-to socialization centers. 

There were times I didn’t want the night to end, even at 1:00 am. Ah, to be in our early 20s again.  

We’d head back to Brian’s place with a few friends. His apartment had a small balcony in the back with a sliding screen door and a small Weber grill. 

Every time we got back to Brian’s place, we threw on some tunes, hit the balcony, and Brian fired up the grill he mastered. Brian had a never-ending supply of hamburgers, hot dogs, and brats. That was good eating at two in the morning after a night out. It also saved me from feeling awful the next morning when work’s alarm came way too early. 

The DJ with an Audience of One
Some nights, Brian and I would hang at my place to cap off the night. I didn’t have a grill or endless assorted meats.  

What I did have was a huge wrap-around front porch, a couple of worn plush chairs, and a fully-stocked sound system you could hear clearly through the screen door.  

I loved playing DJ for others. Brian was no exception. I’d either put the 5-disc CD changer on shuffle, alternate tracks between two single-disc CD players, or play a favorite album from start to finish. 

Brian loved listening to music and making new discoveries. He even sat through all my stories retelling how I found out about certain artists, where I picked up their albums, who they influenced, and who influenced them.  

One of my favorite late-night, low-light, front-porch vibes was the John Lee Hooker album, Don’t Turn Me From Your Door. The raw grit and grease of every track makes you feel like Hooker’s right there with you.  

Through all those summer nights, Brian was so laid back and even keel. He was also a selfless guy who offered up whatever he had to others. He must’ve studied with the Dalai Lama in his spare time. 

Time’s Up, Summer
Time to attempt adulting. I moved up to Chicago and landed a full-time job in the Fall as a copywriter. Brian and I stayed in touch or met up with mutual friends from time to time.

That spring, I got a call from Brian: 

“I’m enrolling in flight school in Florida. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. I’ll be moving down there in May [1999]. I could use your help with the move.

But there’s a twist: I’ve always wanted to go to New Orleans during Jazz Fest. My plan is to head there first in route to Vero Beach.

What do you think?”

Was there anything to think about? I was all in from the get go. Brian knew I would be. Smart guy. 

We loaded Brian’s world into a one-way moving truck with a trailer to tow his car behind us.  

When we made it to New Orleans city limits, we parked the truck and trailer in a lot under an overpass at the edge of town and drove his car to our hotel. 

We were ready to explore NOLA.  

This is the moment I first realized you can walk the city’s streets with open adult beverages. Every day. At any time of day. Let’s just say Brian’s car stayed parked in the hotel garage the rest of our stay. 

Many street corners in New Orleans donned fliers promoting the next big events. That’s when Brian spotted a concert poster for a show happening that night:

   Ben Harper and The Innocent Criminals  
With G. Love and Special Sauce and Bloque 
Thursday, April 29, 1999 – 10:00 p.m. 
State Palace Theatre, New Orleans 
Call Ticketmaster or Visit the Box Office 

At the time, I had never heard of Ben Harper and The Innocent Criminals. But I knew the music of Harper’s opener: G. Love. 

We weren’t far from the State Palace Theatre, originally known as Loew’s State Theatre. Now closed, it was an historic venue built in 1926 at the corners of Canal and Rampart Streets.  

Brian and I headed straight for the venue box office and secured our tickets for that night. No real-time, smart-phone ticket sales back then, kids. 

Then, we were off to the historic Louisiana State Fair Grounds for the 30th annual New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Fest.

Pick a Stage, Any Stage
When I used to hear the word “fairgrounds”, it conjured up images of hay bales, tractor pulls, corn dogs, and slushies. You know, your typical county fair fare. 

The Jazz Fest fairgrounds were anything but typical. There were 10 stages of live music strategically placed throughout the fairgrounds so the sound from any stage didn’t blend with any other.  

Each stage was dedicated to a different genre or theme.  

Rock. Blues. Jazz. Funk. Cajun. Gospel. Zydeco. Folk. Americana. Even Mardi Gras Indians weaved their way through the crowds and walkways.

That made it tough to choose where we went first, how long we stayed, and where we went next. We could chart a course darting from stage to stage. Or we could set up camp in one spot and see band after band after band perform.

On our first day of the fest, Brian and I decided to park it at one stage for 5 straight hours. That was a wise decision. We saw Taj Mahal, Los Lobos, and Little Feat play right in a row. One amazing performer after the next. And there were 9 other stages where you could do the exact same thing!

Good Thing I Didn’t Have Celiac Disease Back Then
There was no shortage of amazing, local food vendors at the fairgrounds. I mean, c’mon. It’s New Orleans! 

We’re talking Gumbo. Jambalaya. Etouffee. Po’ Boys. Muffalettas. Red Beans and Rice. Collard Greens. Cornbread. Topped with every tangy southern hot sauce and gravy under the sun. Washed down with every tasty beverage to beat the heat.  

When nature called, we headed to the endless lineup of port-a-potties at the far end of the fairgrounds. When the lines seemed endless? I’d break out my harmonica and entertain patient festers with some Full Bladder Blues. That’s what a little liquid courage made me do. 

What a first day. We didn’t want to leave. But Ben Harper awaited. Plus, we had several days left to head back to the fest. 

To the Palace, Please
We jumped in the back of one of the countless yellow taxis that lined the fairgrounds entrance with our unfinished fest drinks still in hand. Only in New Orleans. 

We missed the opening band, Bloque. G. Love put on a great show. But I was blown away by Ben Harper who went on at midnight and played a full setlist with encores until nearly two in the morning.  

Harper’s vocals floated from sweet whispers to bouts of rage in no time, while he redefined how haunting a lap steel guitar could grind.  

His originals also surprised my young ears, since Harper hit on universal topics I had yet to hear in such a unique blend of rock, blues, folk, reggae, and ballads. 

He reminded me in “Faded” how quickly people forget the ways their actions affect others. 

He shared in “Roses From My Friends” that the way enemies treat us is fleeting. Friendships are lasting. 

He made the point in “Glory & Consequence” that “I’m more afraid of falling than I am of flying high.” In other words, get out there and do the thing! 

He even covered a few heroes in ways only Ben Harper could:  

• “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye 

• “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” by Jimi Hendrix 

• “Indifference” by Pearl Jam 

• “Superstition” by Stevie Wonder 

I wish I snagged that street-corner concert poster when I had the chance. My ticket stub will have to do. Plus, a few candid shots from that night:  

Our Jazz Fest adventures continued back at the fairgrounds for several days with many more amazing performances we saw and new fest friends we met.

The craziest thing about Jazz Fest? It takes place over two long consecutive weekends. When I realized we were missing the first weekend’s lineup, I was absolutely bummed. 

Ray Charles. Fats Domino. The Meters. Santana. Eddie Bo. Dr. John. Snooks Eaglin. Nicholas Payton. Terrance Blanchard. Joshua Redman. Cassandra Wilson. Jeffrey Osborne.  

Even Willie Nelson. 

On The Road Again
It was time to make way to Brian’s flight school in Florida. We drove back to the seemingly abandoned moving truck parked for 5 days under the overpass on the outskirts of town. 

Roughly 11 hours later, we made it to Vero Beach. Brian had an orientation scheduled the day we arrived, so we headed directly to the training center. 

Brian soon earned his commercial aviation certification. No doubt here. Since his ambition never stood still, Brian later enrolled in the MBA program at Babson College in Boston. 

After his MBA studies, Brian moved back to his home state of Colorado to put his aviation expertise into practice flying corporate jets. He shared all of his plans on a phone call.  

Since that call, we hadn’t kept in touch like we used to. No particular reason. Our geographic distance may have had something to do with it. And as friendships sometimes do, they can drift apart.  

That call was the last time I heard his voice. 

Brian Robinson died in a plane crash in October 2004.  

Brian was the lone pilot flying a Cessna 182 in steep terrain during windy weather above the dense woods of the Colorado mountains. He was only 29.  

A Civil Air Patrol spokesperson said 8 planes were dedicated to the difficult search effort looking for:  

“...broken trees, or something glinting in the sun that shouldn’t be.”  

What they didn’t realize?

Brian was the kind of person who always glinted in the sun.

Thank you for those back balcony and front porch sessions. 

Thank you for including me on your adventures. 

Thank you for your ambition and spontaneity. 

Thank you for sharing Ben Harper’s music.  

Thank you for your smile and your soul. 

Thank you for listening.  

Rest in peace, Brian. 

The Travel Series (Part I) Playlist Highlights: 

Albums:

• The Will to Live - Ben Harper 

• Yeah, It’s That Easy - G. Love & Special Sauce 

• Don’t Turn Me From Your Door - John Lee Hooker 

• Dixie Chicken - Little Feat

Songs:

• “Faded”, “Roses From My Friends”, “Glory and Consequence” - Ben Harper 

• “Stepping Stones”, “I-76”, “Lay Down The Law” - G. Love & Special Sauce 

• “Dixie Chicken”, “Cajun Rage”, “Spanish Moon” - Little Feat 

• “Happy Just to Be Like I Am”, “Music Keeps Me Together”, “Satisfied ‘N’ Tickled Too” - Taj Mahal 

• “Cumbia Raza”, “Let’s Say Goodnight”, “Mas Y Mas” - Los Lobos 

• “Pouring Down Rain”, “Love My Baby”, “Wobbling Baby” - John Lee Hooker 

• “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” - Jimi Hendrix 

• “Indifference” - Pearl Jam 

• “Sexual Healing” - Marvin Gaye 

• “Superstition” - Stevie Wonder