In the movie Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan, a device known as The Genesis Project transforms a dead asteroid into a beautiful planet, creating a lush tropical space where nothing existed 15 minutes before. Maynard Ferguson was my personal Genesis Project. Oh sure, I enjoyed music before Maynard, but it was as a spotty participant, as a fan of my dad's trumpet playing, and as a collector of novelty songs that made me smile. Java by Al Hirt. Herb Albert & The Tijuana Brass Greatest Hits. Mah Ná Mah Ná. Gimme Dat Ding. These silly tunes were swept to the back of the cranium by Maynard's Primal Scream album. For years I thought "Invitation" was an original composition of Maynard's. In fact, all music would be seen through the prism of MF. He was what I call my "Gateway Musician." After hearing him, I joined the Columbia Record Club, and ordered everything I could find from a guy named Chick Corea. When I stumbled across the Chameleon record, I started getting curious about someone named Herbie. My middle school band director, Larry Schmidt, introduced me to Maynard's music, and we even played a couple of MF tunes, featuring the stellar trumpet playing of Mr. Schmidt himself. The Primal Scream record was especially influential because it introduced me to the best & most well-known studio musicians in the business. All of a sudden, I was hearing Steve Gadd, Eric Gale, Dave Sanborn, Bob James. I started following the careers of all these musicians, collecting albums the way kids of a previous generation collected baseball cards. I didn't know Joe Morgan's batting average, but I knew who was recording with Joe Farrell. It wasn't the superstars that really grabbed my attention, but the guys in his touring band. The ones who actually got on the bus and went out there every night. Mike Migliore. Bobby Militello. Peter Erskine. Mark Colby. I got to see the band live once in Dallas, at Granny's Dinner Theatre. There they were, right in front of me! Maynard did a long, mellow, latin cadenza on flugelhorn while walking around the room. He walked right by us! I coulda touched him. It was all so awesome. The band played "Give It One" without any music. I was transfixed. After the concert, Stan Mark shilled T-shirts like a carnival barker. I felt a little embarrassed for him, but I realized his check was probably a little thicker than everybody else's. Lessons learned. I saw Count Basie at that same dinner theatre a year or two later, and he stole my allegiance completely, but I never told anyone. One sideman of Maynard's towered above the rest. A New Zealander named Bruce Johnstone was the featured soloist throughout much of Maynard's "MF Horn 4 & 5: Live @ Jimmy's." Bruce's baritone sax playing was mesmerizing. So strong, so melodic. I learned every note, every nuance of his playing. My parents asked David Winkler to come over to the house and transcribe the intro to "Got The Spirit." I sat there in awe, as this North Texas State alumni listened to the music once, and then wrote the rhythm section chart out on a piece of paper. Magic! I played that piece note for note at the Lake Charles Band Festival with the Churchill High School jazz band, and (with a bit of guilt) took home the outstanding soloist award. I felt I shoulda mailed it to Bruce... All of a sudden, my life was mapped out. It was all so simple then. Graduate from high school. Go to North Texas State. Join Maynard's band. Or Woody Herman's. Or maybe Buddy Rich's. Dare I dream, Basie? I started to consider my options. So off I went. While at North Texas, I saw guys get plucked out of school, and follow my own quest. Ray Brinker joined Maynard on drums. Ron Pedley on keys. Tim Ries on sax. The Bissonette brothers. Had they all shared the same epiphany that I did? Or was it just a gig for them? Even the angry young man, Chip McNeil, went off in the sunset with Maynard's crew. Surely I would have my shot? Alas, it was not to be. There was a big roadblock between me and that tour bus.....The One O' Clock Lab Band. You had to prove yourself in AAA ball before you could step up to the majors. I think I was cursed with diversity. I couldn't stop listening to Boston, or Earth, Wind & Fire, or Miles' Man With The Horn. The kaleidoscope of musical influences clouded my vision, and I couldn't focus on jazz long enough to be one of the major heavies at NT. Or, maybe I just wasn't good enough. I started to drift away from Maynard's music. After his remake of the Star Wars theme, we parted ways. I was told that his concert rider called for a leather sofa and a steak dinner. I felt a little betrayed. I thought he was one of the guys on the bus. I moved on. Years later, I'd see Maynard's band at the IAJE convention in San Antonio. There was Chip McNeil, high-fivin' it with Maynard, completing the transformation from angry man to game show host. Obviously, Maynard had influenced him in more ways than one. MF certainly influenced me. Got memories of your own? Post here