This album is Bucky’s fault. I first met him at a guitar workshop at the Cape May Jazz Festival in 2000. 39 players showed up with Martin dreadnoughts (!), but I showed up with a Gibson hollowbody and a small amp. When Bucky found I knew some standards, he asked me to comp for him while he taught. When we were done, to my delight, after finding I lived near him, he said, “you’re not bad – give me a call.”

A month later, I did. Bucky had me over and, in the course of an hour, did a virtual data dump of guitar knowledge, the first of many. It wasn’t long before Bucky said, as he does to so many other guitar players, “you gotta get a 7-string”. My wife insisted that I was having a John Nash “Beautiful Mind” moment, and didn’t actually know Bucky, but just wanted another guitar - she graciously relented anyway.

I found that Bucky wasn’t just incredibly generous with his knowledge, but with the bandstand as well. When I asked hi...