But there I was in Ubatuba, and one day a girl who was a friend of the family picked up a guitar and, instead of the usual "peixe quer mar, ave voar", began to play some new tunes that left me in ecstasy. They were two compositions: "Meditação" and "Chega de Saudade". The poor thing then had to spend hours teaching guitar chords to this little brat who'd never touched a guitar before in his life. I can still remember how much my fingertips hurt from running along the frets.

Back home I went straight to the piano to try to transfer those chords and find out what the notes were. And later I confronted the bigger problem of how to make the piano swing the way the guitar so easily could. There was no way you could do it all with the left hand and play the melody at the same time with the right. I'm still trying to figure that one out.

A few days after my return from Ubatuba, I happened to tune the TV to channel 5, TV Paulista (those were the good old days before Globo existed), and found myself watching this sort of awkward-looking guy, a bit timid, who played the piano beautifully but couldn't sing too well. But the music he was playing was "Meditação", that marvelous tune from the beach. And as the program continued I discovered that the performer was Tom, and that the program was a weekly show that was going to play bossa nova exclusively. It was incredible!

Needless to say, the show was not a big hit with the audience and it didn't stay long on the air, but it had at least one loyal viewer. It was there that I heard "Desafinado" for the first time, which soon after began to be played occasionally on the radio. I clearly recall an appearance by Joao Gilberto, who took the tune I'd heard on a little guitar in Ubatuba and raised it to the stratosphere. I also remember a marvellous singer, Silvinha Telles, I believe.

In those days it was unthinkable to have more than one television set in the house, and I had to confront certain barriers in order to continue watching the program. The folks at home thought those singers were just awful. Good singing - well, Nelson Goncalves, Angela Maria, those were real voices!

But time passed, and I had the good fortune to be a teenager in the Brazil of Juscelino and bossa-nova. The Zimbu Trio's instrumental version of "Girl from Ipanema" made it to number one on the hit parade. There were shows every day, every one of them packed, and fantastic get-togethers with musicians - these would be considered an absolute success only after someone had performed a composition of Tom's. I participated in a bunch of shows at high schools along with other students who were getting started in music: Chico Buarque, Toquinho, Taiguara, Tuca - who left us too soon - and the man responsible for getting all this material on the Internet, Luiz Roberto. The absolute benchmark: Tom Jobim.

And just as clearly as I recall that afternoon in Ubatuba, I also remember one night many years later, I think it was in 1975, in a rented house near Guarapiranga Reservoir, hearing for the first time the recording of Elis Regina and Tom. I played it several times, crying like a baby, overcome by a mixture of nostalgia and disgust for the mess that Brazilian music and culture had become.

It was the same feeling I had when I got word of Tom's death, so unexpected. It was like a slap in the face, something to bring us back to our senses, make us realize that what matters now is for each of us to try to get along; after all, the age of globalization is upon us, the beaches of Ubatuba are littered with trash and split up into building lots, and there's no likelihood in the near future of anyone getting choked up by hearing "Chega de Saudade".