Above, a pic I shot one night of my bro' Ronnie Foster (right) at his former gig at the Artisan, with Santa Fe's Phil Wigfall, and the legendary David Sanborn.This just cracks me up: so- I'm chillin' at home this afternoon, and my cell phone rings, with the characteristic tango ringtone than can only mean it's Ronnie, and he's all breathless and sounding jammed up. He's callin' to say "Stevie called me at about 3 in the mornin' the other night and said 'Ronnie, I need you down here now!'..." He's now in L.A., and, after squeezing in marathon last-minute rehearsals and jumpin' through a bunch of visa hoops, they're fixin' to leave for Japan for a concert tour ("Stevie" can only mean Stevie Wonder).
In the midst of all that hubbub, he's callin' ME to apologize for not be able to play basketball with me for a while till he gets back (we usually hook up on the weekends).
How nice is that? My cup of friendship runneth over, LOL!
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