I hardly know where to begin, so I'll begin with that sentence and move on from there. It's been a rough past few days with Duncan. Actually, Duncan's been fine, it's us that are the mess. Dara set up a catscan for him on Monday, so he'll probably get operated on in the next few weeks, which, incidentally, I'll be out of town for, shooting a CMT show with my pal Michael. Marathon training in Oklahoma ought to be interesting...or horrific. We shall see, kids.

All righty, it looks as though we're on to:

1979

This was the year Mr. Geraldi and Mr. Lemm introduced me to the wonders of the sax-a-ma-phone. Yes, this was the year I was inducted into the band geek-army. Originally, I was leaning towards trumpet, but for some uknown reason, I jumped all over that sexy sax and it's sweet, sweet...uh...I need another "s" word............

.....sound!

I loved practicing, which more than likely, drove my Mom and Dad insane. Let's just say I was no Charlie Parker right outta the gates. Nothing else of particular note jumps out at me from this year, save for playing baseball (I think it was my first year) and let's just say, I was no Dave Kingman right outta the gates.