It's time to take a trip to Eastman; yes, Eastman School of Music.
The year is 1987 and I am on a plane for the first time. --
--My friend, Bill Garvey, who is a follower of a Bill
a Bill of adifferent kind, Billy Graham, is aboard the plane as well. --
--All of that's coincidence, and incidental to the upcoming story,
but nonetheless adds flavor to the narrative-angelical soup.--
--There is nothing angelic in the story I'm about to tell you; though the innocence in the main character, that would be me, will most certainly be a recurring theme.--
--So ride with me, if you will, in seat 12 A, directly next to the window, as we make our way to Rochester, New York, from the tiniest of tenoristic airports; the hub in Charlottesville, Virginia, home to none other than Dave and the Dave Matthews band. One of the premiere tenorial bands of the late twentieth century. --
--The school where I would be heading, was designed for a musical flavor of a different kind. Classical music. Strictly classical music. And this as it turned out, was a great love of mine.
--So I was heading up north to make a run at a musical career. With a brand new suit at hand and a sweet sonorous voice.