B.B. KING

(appearing at The Paramount Theatre, Seattle, January 3rd, 1996; and 1/2 at The Roseland Theatre in Portland, OR; and 1/4 at The Queen Elizabeth Theatre, Vancouver, B.C.; and 1/5 at The Royal Theatre, Victoria, B.C.)

At age 70, B.B. King has reached a pinnacle that no other blues artist has ever attained.

With 50 albums behind him, thousands of performances, worldwide recognition and an audience so vast and appreciative that it can only be described as phenomenal, King is now a recipient of one of the Kennedy Center Honors.

This is significant for a number of reasons.

For one thing, it will be the first time the blues have achieved parity with the "finer" arts of literature, drama, dance, film, TV, etc. For another thing, it means that King's story (and thus that of the blues) will be told to a nationwide TV audience.

B.B. King, a native of Itta Bena, Mississippi, is finally getting his due.

There was a time when King was utterly alone. Orphaned, he practically raised himself from a very early age. He went to Memphis as a teenager, became a disc jockey (B.B. stands for Blues Boy), cut his first records, worked cotton-country juke joints and eventually set out on a touring schedule that would have killed a lesser man.

In the late 1960s, after the reigning Chicago stars (Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Little Walter and so forth) had already begun to be credited with providing much of the inspiration for rock, King was still relegated to the entertainment ghetto. His metier was the Apollo Theater, the Regal, countless lesser halls and the clubs of the so-called "Chitlin Circuit".

Things began to change, by his own account, when he was booked into one of the Filmore auditoriums and a vast new audience discovered him. His breakthrough song was "The Thrill Is Gone." After that, he was definitely on his way.

He built his reputation slowly and steadily and, some would say, indiscriminately. For decades, he played more than 300 one-nighters per year. He lived on the road. Whenever time permitted, which seemed like every few months, he recorded. His albums seemed uneven but, looking back, they were always incredibly soulful.

Another key moment for him came when a last-minute cancellation resulted in his being booked on Johnny Carson's Tonight Show. He was a knockout and he became a regular on that program, proving to be a constant show-stopper.

Then there were movie soundtracks, Grammy awards, blues awards, headlining gigs at international festivals and the unreserved admiration of his peers.

In the past 50 years, King has become not only one of the best known blues artists in creation, but also one of the best loved. His style is impassioned, impervious to fads, impossible to duplicate and classic in its directness and simplicity. He appeals to virtually everyone.

Consequently, it's fitting that the keepers of the cultural flame should at last condescend to bestow on him the ultimate tribute of inclusion in the pantheon of national heroes.

He's so good he even got through to them

And it's about time.