The Next Big Thing

Every time change is in the air I remember how much I hate change. Sameness lulls me into thinking that somehow I’ve finally gotten past it, but then something different creeps in, and I’ve got knees made of Jello, a queasy stomach, and nights haunted with episodes of insomnia. Change. Just change. Nothing particularly negative…

Music to my Ears

I imagine that the year was 1961…September 11, assuredly…most likely 1961. Earlier in the summer my parents had purchased a used upright piano from some friends and decided that I would begin taking piano lessons that fall. I was an eight-year-old third grader, whose only prior musical knowledge was from the bits of family radio…