I have an interest in obituaries of all kinds (like my dad says, "Obits are the Irish sport pages"), but when it comes to the deaths of musicians, a retrospect or glimpse into their lives provides so much creative energy for me because their genuine love for art is so inspiring. I had the good fortune to see B.B. (his nickname that stood for "Blues Boy") King live once in my life as he played a show with Buddy Guy about a decade ago. King sauntered up to his chair, took a seat, grabbed the love of his life (his affectionately named guitar, Lucille), and the blues poured out. I felt the notes, the rhythm, and the power of King's vibratos, slides and trills.