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PAUL NATKIN/PHOTO RESERVE“Once a few of those phone cameras start flashing,” said Legends officemanager Annie Lawlor, “that’ll start them all.”She’s right, and after a short while Guy graciously poses for fans’ photos,autographs CDs and shares a few wickedly funny anecdotes that will remainoff the record. He’s equally enthused about the accolades that have floodedhis way during the past few years, including this year’s DownBeat Critics Pollwins for Blues Artist and Blues Album, for Rhythm & Blues (RCA/Silvertone).Guy was also named a 2012 Kennedy Center Honoree (the same year as LedZeppelin, whose guitarist Jimmy Page owes a considerable amount to Guyand his colleagues). That same year, Guy performed at the White House andwhile that event was newsworthy enough, he also garnered attention for convincingPresident Barack Obama to sing with the band.Guy received another award this past May, which may not seem as glamorous,but conveys just as much personal meaning. He was given an honorarydegree from Louisiana State University, which was where he worked as amaintenance man before moving to Chicago in 1957. In the early 1950s, Guywas unable to attain much formal education. As a teenager, his mother suffereda stroke, so he had to help with chopping crops and plowing the fields.While his family understood his desire to move north for a better incomeand chance to learn about music directly from the blues masters, Guy’shome state never left his consciousness. This year he also bought a homenear Baton Rouge.“The few people still alive who knew me in Louisiana cry every time I gothere and talk,” Guy said. “The white lady whose plantation we were livingon, said, ‘Come sit down and pull up a chair beside me’ and also said,‘Congratulations.’ When I left there, we couldn’t even ride in the front of thecar with them, go to the same bar, or use the same washroom. We didn’tbring that up, but I could see it in her eyes because she cried.”Education, mentorship and schooling come up frequently during a conversationwith Guy in his office, one floor above the Legends stage. One ofhis reasons for opening the club was to have a space to teach young peopleabout the blues, just like Muddy Waters had mentored him more than 50years ago. Teenage guitarist Quinn Sullivan is one of Guy’s protégés and he’slooking for more.“Any young kid, I can give a tip to, I would. I owe it to them to keep theblues alive. If I see someone who can play, I call them up,” Guy said. “Theyhave a law here, they can’t stop a guy from working. If someone is 12 or 13, andI call you and pay you to play, but I can’t serve you drinks. One guy broughthis kid from Canada, another brought a bunch of kids from California. Bringthem early on a Friday or Saturday so they don’t have to go to school the nextday. Some little girls came up and they were not nervous or shaking at all. Ijust played Greenwich, Conn., a couple nights ago. You know that’s a veryrich town and I walked off the stage and saw many 6, 7, 8, 9, 10-year old kids.They were following me like you see on the news when a duck has babies andthey’re crossing the expressway.”At the same time, Guy chuckles at the memory of how, at first, his ownchildren did not recognize his artistry. During this conversation, his guitaristson Gregory was taking care of the club’s business in an adjoiningoffice. But initially Guy’s music couldn’t compete with the pop stars of theearly and mid-1980s.“One Fourth of July, we put the record player and speakers outside, and Iwas cooking barbecue,” Guy recalled. “Michael Jackson and Prince were sellingrecords like hotcakes, and they were playing them. Everyone was dancing.Every time someone would slip one of my records on, my son would takeit off and say, ‘I don’t want to hear that.’ Now, every time I tell him about that,he looks at me with a few tears in his eyes and says, ‘Dad, I just didn’t know.’But I’m glad. They realize [the importance of] the music I play. When you seeme, I don’t dance and carry on as well the rest of the kids do, but I do let youknow I enjoy what I’m doing.”That description of Guy’s performance style is quite the understatement.Long regarded as an incredible showman, Guy will play the guitar behind hisback, pick the strings with his teeth, and use a cordless guitar so that he canstroll to the bar—or even walk outside—all while delivering a stinging solo.Such flashiness would be mere novelty were it not for his virtuoso skills as aguitarist as well as his authoritative vocals.Loyal Chicagoans have the opportunity to see what Guy does up closeduring his monthlong residencies, which happen every January at his club.Some of those shows were chronicled on the 2012 concert album Live AtLegends (RCA). While the album captures the extravagant energy he bringsAUGUST 2014 DOWNBEAT 47