Mike had wonderful musical friends, some of whom hadn't been in touch with each other for decades. His passing brought some of us together again as we wrote to each other our memories. These are some of mine.
Mike's knowledge of jazz was encyclopedic, but he also kept up with what young musicians were doing. Not long ago he sent me a tape of a high school big band that was brilliant, another time a feature article about Krupa vs Rich (Max wasn't an ikon yet).Over the years we played together at a few reunions. Last I think was Bob Poor, Jim Wheaton,Bob Lonsbury, Ron, Jack Shenefield, Mike and me. Some of us were, well, light on technique but not Mike. Still on top of it, Jelly Roll to Lenie Tristano, you name it, and modest, like nothing special, just sits down and plays. Didn't talk about himself, might come up with an apocryphal story, like when Errol Garner played the Bohemian Grove. Sometimes he seemed inaccessible, in a world of his own, but it didn't matter. Mike was Mike. They were good times, no bad ones, and I was happy to be part of it. Later on when Barbara and I visited Jack Shenefield in San Francisco, I saw his warm side, gentle, thoightful, courtly. He took us around town, and it was a riot, pure Biggs. On another visit we had a lunch with Mike, Ginny, and Jack and Joan, It was a sunny day, a laid back restaurant, a cozy mood and laughs from his whimsical and typically off topic remarks. A very dear man. Mike played great piano, and he also had a unique insight into music and musicians. Is it possible to fill that space? Cloud computing? Not likely. But many fond memories.
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