Sometimes reality takes the shape of a dream. On an otherwise normal day, an experience leads you to believe that you have crossed over to a different dimension entirely.

It was a beautiful summer day in 2000. Cornerstone Coffee, which is located at 54th and College, was nearly empty. I was pumping in a cup of Black Thunder coffee (poetry fuel). I looked and listened to the back couch and was thunderstruck by more than the coffee. It was another Joe, the young Joe Harrison playing guitar. And I mean really playing the guitar.

I had known Joe for over a year and saw him almost daily at Cornerstone, but I didn't know he played the guitar - and to hear the shy 15-year-old play the guitar as he was playing the guitar, well. . . the annoyingly talkative CW had nothing to say. So there I sat - across from The Kid as he played a concert of Grateful Dead tunes.

These days when Joe visits me he plays jazz classics from his latest CD, as well as original compositions. We talk about jazz and he plays and plays some more.

The Kid is now 22 and the sky is the limit. Jazz legends of Naptown are singing his praises.

I think back to the hours I first believed and tried to conceive of where to put this prodigy in my tiny human brain. From being thunderstruck I now experience a constant, pleasant, and mild earthquake.