The man was Bernie Taupin, and at that moment I realized that I was entering another part of the Yellow Brick Road Kingdom for good. I remember knocking on the door and I remember the playful “come in”, then the door swinging open, and the first look of the man who greeted me -his eyes and his smile.

But I also remember my stupidity as a naive young provincial boy from Nice, so overexcited to have access to the Wizard of Oz’s close-knit guard. And thus, fully determined to mark the occasion (like a French unconscious schoolboy should) : a joker defying the world. Indeed, I had found amusing and racy to present to John Reid, in place of the The Fantastic Elton John Band gouache, a sort of lousy drawing on a large format white paper sheet, laboriously done in black marker, a willingly sloppy scribble supposed to represent Elton John and his band. The thing could not even claim to have the value of a sketch or a pre-project, at best.
It was just a huge silly hoax, which succeeded because I remember John Reid's disbelieving looks, unable to decide what to think, and grimacing a kind of incredulous grin that scarcely hid his real feelings.

I remember my burst of laughter then... But also my immediate embarrassment at the contrite expression of Elton John's manager, who certainly must have had other things to do than waste his time with the childish jokes of a young art student from Nice.

I remember having cut short the joke finally, and sheepishly having taken the real work out of its roll, as fast as I could.
I remember John Reid's relief then, and his enormous smile and sparkling eyes when discovering the real gouache, which confirmed that he liked what he saw. I remember his amused indulgence for my stupidity, and I remember his benevolence towards me, which he never departed during the years that followed, on each occasion that I had the opportunity to see him.