B.B. King didn't play a lot of notes. He played the right ones. He grew up on a plantation in the Delta and bought his first electric guitar for $30. He named his Gibson Lucille after a woman who'd caused a brawl that burned down a juke joint. He ran back into the fire to save the guitar. For 60 years, every Gibson he owned was Lucille.

His vibrato -- that trembling thing he did with his left hand -- was his signature. The Thrill Is Gone crossed over to pop radio because it was too honest not to. He played 300 shows a year into his eighties. When asked why, he said he didn't want to disappoint anyone who'd paid to see him. He opened for the Stones, duetted with U2, and mentored a generation.

Every Day I Have the Blues. Sweet Little Angel. He won 15 Grammys and the Presidential Medal of Freedom. He died at 89 in Las Vegas, and thousands lined Beale Street for his funeral. The King of the Blues earned every syllable of the title.

B.B. King was the most important blues ambassador the music ever had. Six decades on the road. Lucille in his hands. The right notes, the right spaces, and a smile that made you feel like he'd been waiting all day to play for you. The King abdicates only when the music stops. The music hasn't stopped.