So David Crosby walks into the coffee shop… a Morristown memory

One of the great things about living in a town with a great concert hall is, every once in awhile, you bump into the great performers who come to play here.

So it was in June 2015.

A rumpled codger with a walrus mustache shuffled into SmartWorld Coffee. Imagine General Custer in retirement. That’s how David Crosby looked that afternoon.

I might not have recognized him at all, except he was scheduled to play that night at the Mayo Performing Arts Center.

Crosby’s songs had been part of my life’s soundtrack ever since dad brought home a cassette of Crosby, Stills & Nash in 1969. I came to love Crosby’s early stuff with The Byrds, too. It was a thrill to see him duet with Graham Nash at MPAC in 2011.

Sadly, they would become estranged; Crosby shot from the hip, with sharper aim than Custer.

All of which suggested rich material for an impromptu interview with this living legend. Your intrepid reporter sidled up to him and asked the burning question for fans everywhere.

“So…how’s the coffee?”

Crosby averred that his cold brew was terrific.

I had my scoop. This should get Rolling Stone’s attention! The Rock & Roll Hall-of-Famer consented, warily, to pose for a photo with me. His son Django snapped the picture, if memory serves.

They left with a cinnamon muffin, two iced coffees and a box of cold-brewed coffee. Crosby paid with a $100 bill.

“Do you know who that was?” I asked the high school girls behind the counter. Crosby’s name elicited blank stares. “You know, Wooden Ships? Almost Cut My Hair?”

(In retrospect, I would have been clueless if anyone from their Spotify playlists had sauntered in.)

Crosby gave a fine solo show that evening. His 73-year-old pipes were remarkably resonant, considering the decades of punishment he inflicted upon them before cleaning up his act.

And his tongue was tart as ever. (Kanye West? “He can’t write, sing or play!” Then-candidate Donald Trump?  “A walking intelligence-free zone.”)

Graham Nash returned to MPAC a year later. His interview covered a little more ground than Crosby’s.

I hoped for another chance with David. But living legends don’t live forever.

On Thursday, he died. He was 81.

R.I.P., David Crosby. Thanks for the soundtrack. And thanks for the photo.