Back in the day when Steve was NYFD, he lived next door to a bud of mine in Brooklyn, on the edge of Red Hook. A very down to earth guy, he drove an ancient Olds 88. Every now and then I'd run into him in some strange bar or club I was checking out for the music in Brooklyn. One Friday winter night, I don't remember when for sure, I got a call from a bar owner in Williamsburg I was friendly with. He had a girl playing that night and her band had gotten stuck at O'Hare because of weather conditions. He wanted me to come down and fill on guitar. My mother volunteered to sit the kids, one of her great joys. I get there with my wife in tow, we're freezing, and hit some brandy. I open my guitar case to let it acclimate to the heat and humidity in the bar before tuning, and this petite girl is working the piano and singing. I didn't know who she was. I tune my 12 string, walk over to the stage area, and sitting mesmerized at the nearest table to the girl on the piano was Steve and a friend of his. The girl is singing country but playing jazz riffs on the keyboard. I start backing her with some swing rhythms, Steve looks up, smiles at me, waves, and goes back to staring at her. After the first set, the girl introduces herself, Steve can't stop complimenting her, and my wife joins us. I introduce my wife to the girl and Steve, he introduces his friend. His friend was Bela Fleck, my wife sat down at the piano, the girl picked up her guitar, a big old Harmony L-5 from the 40's, a great f hole jazz guitar, and the 4 of us made music till 3 in the morning. The girl was Norah Jones. She lived in the apartment above the bar. We had a lot of fun. Bela was in town doing opening shows at Max's Kansas City, his first trip to NY.
The bar owner had also called Bella, and it was coincidence that he and Steve both showed up and were friendly. The bar owner was Alan Chin, who later opened one of the hottest clubs in Manhattan for many years, with his brother Stanley, Chin-Chin's. Stanley and I grew up together. It's a small world. For years Stanley was one of the leading attorneys in Chinatown. Their father, for decades owned every restaurant in Chinatown. They lived next door to the Trump's, in a much bigger house.
The two families ignored each other, except for Stanley who would bust Donald's chops at every opportunity when we were all kids. It really irked Fred Sr. when Mr. Chin would get picked up by his chauffeured Rolls every morning, brought home every evening in his tailored silk suits. Alan always kept a couple of tables reserved for friends and family. Steve was a regular, and when I dropped by he'd often be in deep conversation with Mr. Chin at one of those tables, drinking tea, nibbling on dim sum. It was at one of Mr. Chin's restaurants where I pearl dived for a few months when I was 14. He said I would learn humility. He was wrong, I became the pet of the kitchen crew and had too much fun to learn humility. So he fired me, with a smile.
