Why I'll never be a DC driver

Greetings from Pittsburgh!

It's frickin' freezing.

I have to say, the Pittsburgh skyline is quite cool once you round the corner on 376. It's kind of funky, really. It reminds me of Portland, Oregon a bit. Sadly, that's about all I've seen of the city today. After a lengthy morning meeting and a 4 1/2 hour drive that put me in town around 5 pm, I was kind of pooped, but also ended up getting trapped by work e-mail. So, e-mails, phone calls, room service and American Idol later and I don' t have a ton of sightseeing stories. Tomorrow.. tomorrow I will make every effort during the break in my program to see a little bit of Pittsburgh. And, according to everyone who has ever been here, I have to go have this sandwich where they put the french fries IN the sandwich. 5 people have told me to have it. Apparently I haven't lived until I've taken in these 1500 calories in one fell swoop. I'll keep you posted. The other thing I REALLY want to do is check out the Andy Warhol Museum but, again, it means being irresponsible and being selfish when I should be answering e-mails. Sigh. Keep your fingers crossed.

The drive here was not without adventure. First, I got lost trying to get to 495. I was convinced that I would remember how to do it based on directions I received for a trip back in May. Yah. That didn't work out so well. So, 4 1/2 hours to get here is actually 5, because I couldn't even get myself out of DC properly.

Then, the Beltway. I don't know how people live here and drive. Seriously.

I printed out two sets of directions. Both, yes, BOTH, said, "Take 495 North toward Baltimore/Frederick". Once I finally reached the entrances to 495/Capital Beltway, I was given the following options, "495 East/Baltimore" and "495 West/Frederick/Northern Virginia".

Buh?

The good news is I made the right guess. I knew the next highway I needed was near Frederick (thanks to Sarah's wedding and some recent road trips to Michigan and West Virginia). So, disaster avoided. But still. C'MON!

After about 90 minutes on the road I decided I needed something to eat. I made haste to Wendy's.

I followed three Army guys (sporting fatigues and all) into the restaurant. I then proceeded to watch them recruit the kid at the counter.

Isn't there a law against this? Recruiting someone for a job at their current place of employment? Granted, it was 1:30 pm on a weekday, the kid clearly wasn't in school and was, perhaps, in search of some options. Still, I'm pretty sure they brought it up, not him, but the best part? Their talking points...

"Don't you want this cool uniform?" (Gentlemen does a manly model pose) Next thing you know, the kid is giving him his phone number.

I can't imagine the pressure of being a military recruiter, especially right here and now. Still, I was a bit appalled. Plus the kid made sure the recruiters got the fresh french fries and left me with the fries that had been sitting there for.. well, god knows how long. BOO!

Finally, my heart is breaking as I watch Olivia Newton John guest judge on Idol tonight. Sandra Dee with plastic surgery? OH SANDY!

In case you're having a bad day...

An 18 year old girl sideswiped my best friend's house with her car yesterday. She came over a hill going God only knows how fast, lost control on a turn and, WHAM!, decided it was time for an Extreme Home Makeover of the Kep residence. The car was totaled and initial damage estimates to the house are in the "holy crap" to "sweet jesus!" financial range, all to be charged to the driver. She's incredibly lucky she walked away alive. She also missed a huge tree by inches. Funny to think that hitting a house is better than that, but, for her sake, it certainly was.

So, keep that in your pocket today and know that your day can't be THAT bad. Well, except for Kep, who reads this blog. I'm just happy everyone is ok. And now you get free work on your house!!!

I also DO NOT envy her future car insurance payments.

Unfaithful

I just read Valerie's blog about her awful meeting today. I had 4 on the books for today, and ended up bagging on the third because the second went too long (making me look like a total douchebag to the four people who were expecting me at the third.. any minute now.. any minute now). Anyway, I felt a bit railroaded in my last meeting. It was actually somewhat of a surreal experience, as these people were talking to me like I was throwing a fit and not understanding what they were saying, when I really did understand and wasn't throwing a fit, which made me wonder if what I hear myself say and how I feel myself react is completely opposite to that which I'm actually doing. Ah me.. I just can't win. Anyway, this meeting ran late which meant I arrived at the rental car place JUST as he was closing. Thank God for good people. Or, rather, thank God for slightly awkward chaps who seem to enjoy the company, in whatever form, of any woman. He let me in and got me squared away. That means I'm all set to take off for....

PITTSBURGH.

Jealous, suckah?

Anyway, this blog wasn't supposed to be about meetings. This blog is about being unfaithful. No, I do not come to you with a major confession of wrongdoing, rather, this is about my guilt surrounding how I treat the one companion who is there for me morning and night, who can make me laugh, and make me cry, who can motivate me to trudge forward or show me the power of slowing down.

My MP3 player.

I don't know what it is. I love music... especially MY music. Nevertheless, I'm such a dirty no good dog when it comes to my MP3 player. 9 times out of 10, despite the great care I've taken to load my MP3 player with songs that I love, I automatically hit "next". It's like I can only feign interest in any given song for a few chords and I'm all set. Time to move on.

The trouble is, I tend to have hot flings with songs and then kick them to the curb. We'll go about a week when I spend much of my commute desperately looking forward to it making its way through my earbuds. A surge flows through my body upon hearing it! I play it again, and again, and again. I can't get enough!

But then, it fades. One full play through per day does it for me. Then, maybe I don't seek it out as much anymore, like, if it comes on, great, but I'm not going to go to the trouble of finding it myself. Then, something else, something entirely different, has caught my ear. It was fun while it lasted, but I'm just not feeling it anymore. Maybe I'll reconnect with it a few months down the road, for a day of nostalgia, but, at that point, I've also identified a new song that is making my head spin, making me smile for no reason.. you get the drift.

I'm a total player.

Anyway, someone explain this rare form of ADD to me. It seems so unfair! How can I be so cruel?

In closing, here's to the hope of having fun stories to share from Pittsburgh. Please be my friend and cross your fingers that I don't have to drive through snow for either leg!

A Near Perfect Day

I had one yesterday.

What does such a thing comprise? Well, first the company: my favorite guy. Second, I made food. Yes, it seems silly, but I've been trying to tap back into the person I used to know who really enjoyed cooking. So, yesterday morning I took a stab at making popovers, a family favorite. I had not attempted them in a while and I'm happy to report they came out fairly well, though not perfect, but we'll still call it a success. Thirdly, Karaoke Revolution was played, and this time with a partner. No names will be given in order to protect the innocent. SO MUCH FUN.

But the true crux of my perfect day yesterday came in the form of seeing not one, but TWO, of the movies up for Best Picture: Babel and Letters from Iwo Jima. That means all I have left to see of the Best Picture nominees is The Queen, and I have every intention of seeing it in the next couple of weeks. I think this may actually be the very first year, despite my status as a cinephile, that I will have seen all the Best Picture nominees prior to the ceremony.

Of course, there was also the pure joy of having a moviegoing partner who was not only up for this venture, but who actually suggested it. Yesterday simply affirmed for me that I'm with the man of my dreams. (Well, that and he played Karaoke Revolution with me.. oh.. woops.. so much for identity protection)

So, cooking, great company, Karaoke Revolution and dinner out between two Best Picture nominees. Perfection!

As far as the movies are concerned, I'll confess I didn't walk away from either hoping one of them will take away the coveted statue. Babel, as I expressed to my partner in crime who agreed, seemed like an international and slightly watered down version of Crash. I know most people loved Crash, and I did enjoy it and find it powerful, but I was also irritated by how contrived it was and the treatment of race relations seemed cartoonish to me in its extremes. While Babel isn't really a treatment of race, it does explore the interconnectedness of storylines. It does so in a kind of "butterfly effect" manner, but unfortunately it didn't strike all that powerful a chord with the audience. It also seems to me that each storyline was more interesting on their own. Cate Blanchett and Brad Pitt's plot started off incredibly strong - an exploration of a couple trying to come to terms with a recent tragedy, but fell into an episode of 24 - when will she be rescued after being shot by terrorists? Will she ever? The plight of the young Japanese woman makes for a fascinating character study on its own, and I will root for her supporting actress nod, but doesn't offer much to the movie beyond the contrast of landscapes. And a storyline that results with characters in Mexico felt simply absurd. I do believe the movie is worth seeing, but I would recommend lowering your expectations of it before going in.

Letters from Iwo Jima did not stir me much either, though I will say it was a beautiful film artistically. The landscape is gorgeous, the acting is very good, and the scenes of war are gritty and bold, just as you would expect anything related to World War II with funding by Steven Spielberg. It is a fascinating story to consider in light of Japan's isolationism, and, without taking too many of my guy's talking points away, it does hammer home the seeming senselessness of war. My frustration was I didn't walk away with a better understanding of the Japanese, and the characters I sympathized with were those who were most, well, American-like. Perhaps a personal flaw rather than a movie flaw. While I liked the letters angle I didn't feel it did a whole lot for the film, though I have to understand letters were written to pass the time, not to express any sort of epiphany, per se. Still, it's a film worth seeing and, if it does win Best Picture, it's a tip of the hat to the direction, cinematography and adaptation.

I'm definitely cheering, however, for the other films in the category. Not having seen The Queen (but recognizing its potential), so far I'm going with The Departed. I would love to see Little Miss Sunshine take it, too, but I think The Departed simply offers up a better, multi-layered, more engaging story.

I really need to have an Oscar party again.

Ain't too proud

Friday. It holds such power, promise and respite. Secure in the knowledge I will not be awoken by a vile alarm for the next two mornings, my life carries the promise of a newborn child.

OK, a bit much. But I'm just so psyched.

Let me start off by saying I owe some of you phone calls and e-mails. I'll get there, I promise. I've never understood why correspondence with those you hold most dear can be so difficult to initiate. I think it's the pressure of feeling like you owe the person on the other side of that phone call or e-mail your A-game, and I'm just too beat to bring that lately. I do have to thank everyone for being so supportive over the past week or so. I had no idea random words written in a blog would carry so much weight with my circle. I have received more phone calls and e-mails of encouragement in the past 7 days than some might receive in a lifetime. I am humbled and grateful. I plan to archive every last one of them. I just wish you were all closer, and not spread all over the country, so we could drink countless bottles of wine together and laugh until it hurt. I miss you so much!

So how did I start my weekend? You mean, when I wasn't being a good friend and calling and writing back my extraordinary friends? Well, I played American Idol Karaoke Revolution.. by myself.. for two hours.

In case you haven't familiarized yourself with Karaoke Revolution, it, alone, makes purchasing a PlayStation 2 worth the investment. And, what, they've got to be like $5 now that PS3 is out, right? Katy introduced me to the wonder of this game and when Jen and I found out about an American Idol version, our squeals shook the foundation of my 12-story high-rise apartment building. We made haste to Best Buy and haven't looked back.

So, yah, 2 hours. See, it turns out, despite being relatively tone deaf, I'm actually pretty good at this game. Some of my good friends who actually have singing voices are humbled by the power I bring to this competition. See, it doesn't matter if you can sing. What matters is if you can get a certain note-like sound out of your throat that is psuedo-similar to what the bouncing green arrow is pointing to on the screen. Honestly, it has nothing to do with singing ability. I've racked up mad crazy points with a version of "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" because I can reach an octave from which dogs should be spared. Who knew Freddy Mercury could be sung opera style?

Of course, the game screws with your head. Because you start to believe that just because you emit a sound similar to what they want, and because you can do it a few times in a row and get a "crowd boost" so high it makes your microphone glow... well, you start to believe you can actually belt it. If this game is to be believed, my versions of Alone (Heart), Saving All My Love (Whitney Houston) and Heaven (Los Lonely Boys.. whatever) would bring grown men to their knees and resolve world hunger all on their own. Simply put, this game literally makes me feel like a rock star. So, upon discovery that I could play an 18 round version.. well, I couldn't resist. Jen came home around round 12.. just in time for me to serenade her with "Just the Way You Are".

I have no doubt this makes me sound like a first class dorkus. Well, that's always been the case, I'm just embracing it now. After karaoke, I got caught up on 24 and simply can't sleep now knowing that Jack Bauer can't singlehandedly stop nuclear bombs from going off in our fair country. Guess two years in a Chinese prison can mess with your finesse.

As a random note, I must share with you the utter oddity of having an assistant. I have an assistant now. And two days into the job, she's already reading me. It's very odd to see your habits through other people's eyes who, let's be honest, really don't know you all that well. I've finally gotten over the fact that it's OK to ask her to make copies and travel reservations. At first I couldn't get my head around it, and even asked her to bear with me, as I didn't understand asking someone to do what I was perfectly capable of doing myself. Seriously, I have a hard time handing someone something to photocopy. Just seems, silly.

Anyway, she came to me today with my mail (again, I pass by the mailbox at least twice a day but she assures me she'll bring it up.. sorted) and a stack of four over sized Post-It Note Pads. "What are these for?" I asked. "You write too much on your Post-Its," she replied,"You need the biggest ones." I mean, this is true. I start off with the best of intentions, but why say in 10 words what you can say in 60. I usually have to re-write Post-It messages to get them on one square. So, the woman had a point. It was just funny to me to think of someone spending their time on finding a solution to that issue.

Another highlight of my day was the print my mom purchased me for Christmas arrived at my office. Christmas morning I ripped open an absolutely lovely framed black and white print of a steel bridge in Paris. My mom knows I love black and white photography, particularly when it captures European architecture. It's a gorgeous image, and as I admired it she reminded me of the second most repeated mom-ism in my world. (The first, in case you're curious, is "What you're feeling is only temporary" - her standard response when I'm having a difficult time.) "Remember," she said, "to never burn bridges."

My mother and I have had some rough patches over the years, and sometimes it's infuriating when someone who has, at times, shown a complete lack of understanding about who you are and why you're feeling the way you do, can pin you down to a dot. She knew I needed to hear that again, and it now hangs proudly on my office wall. As you enter my office, it's essentially the first thing you see if you're looking for me, and I hope it's a message I can impart to others who see it.

Goosebumps

Today was a day for goosebumps.

Goosebumps Reason Number One: Oscar Nominations! Ok, really, I need to start having my Oscar party again. Oscar Night is one of my FAVORITES! Golden Globes is right up there as well, but there's a certain accessiblity to the Golden Globes that the Oscars have never quite emitted. There's a level of Old Hollywood sophistication whose equivolance simply cannot be captured by even the biggest awards shows of other mediums (Grammys, Emmys, Kid's Choice Awards.. you get the drift).

There are some truly fantastic surprises in this year's Oscar nods. Jennifer Hudson, obviously, is one to be excited about. But how about Adriana Barraza in Babel? She doesn't speak a single word in the film! And Abigail Breslin? Too much fun. How wonderful to have a young actress nominated for a comedic role - arguably the most challenging type of role in the craft.

I am also completely psyched about the Supporting Actor nominations, and give a formal shout out to Cory for calling the Jackie Earle Haley nod. What an oustanding surprise. His performance in Little Children shows an immersion that is almost creepy. Well, no, it is creepy. He plays a child molester and he's really good at it. Yuck. The Alan Arkin and Mark Wahlberg nods are absolutely deserved as well. Arkin has to be one of the most underrated actors of his time, and as much as we keep wanting to write Wahlberg off as a bit of a one hit wonder of multiple media (Good Vibrations AND Boogie Nights), The Departed gave him a role he clearly loved playing. Simply put, he ran with it. He's also gotten way better on the eyes over the years. Wicked pissah.

Goosebumps Reason Two: Call me sentimental, but hearing George W. Bush acknowledge his honor at being the first President to utter "Madam Speaker" at the State of the Union, well, I got a little faklemped. Love her or hate her, it remains an extraordinary moment in our history. There she stood, looking over a crowd that included the first bonafide female presidential contender and the first bonafide African American presidential contender... and Libby Dole. Again, love them or hate them, extraordinary.

Goosebumps Reason Three: American Idol. Ok, we still took a little too much time to make fun of slow "Elvis", and raking the dude whose wife just cheated on him was a bit much, but that lovely cherub who sang "For Once in My Life" by Stevie Wonder (how much do we love Stevie? SO MUCH!).. well, I just want to put her in my pocket. Love her love her love her. Love the song, love the voice, love the style, love the look, love the personality. Love it all.

Goosebumps Reason Four: Big official announcement of my super crazy new temporary big boss lady position. I offer this on behalf of my parents, who had goosebumps. Me? I threw up in my mouth.

Goosebumps Reason Five: I think I get to go to Hawaii for a work trip in April. Bitchin.

Goosebumps Reason Six: I ate tater tots for lunch. YUM.

It's just not that bad...

The day? It sucked..

However, it could be worse.

How do I know?

Jen has High Maintenance 90210 on right now, and we watched Wife Swap at 8.

I just watched a woman who has no job hire an assistant, to keep her punctual and pal around with until her husband gets home. Their conversation over lunch was something like this...

"So, like, wow, I'm like, your employer!" (lovely, artificially enhanced platinum blond female)
"OMG I KNOW!" (jude law-wannabe newly hired assistant)
*clink glasses of white wine over $200 lunch*
"OMG I LOVE YOU!" (LAEPBF)
"OMG ME TOO!" (JLWNHA)

First task? Shopping...

"I wanna buy you something, to, like, reward you for your first day of work, and show you, I'm like, the best employer ever." (LAEPBF)
"Are you serious?" (JLWNHA)
"Totally!" (LAEPBF)
"OMG I love this sweatshirt! (JLWNHA)
*lifts up black hoodie with dragon graphic on one side*
"I'm totally buying it for you!" (LAEPBF)
"OMG!" (JLWNHA)
*scene switch to cashier*
"Ok, so the sweatshirt is $1,000." (early 20s salesgirl who has never shopped at Target)
"Um, is that ok?" (JLWNHA)
"TOTALLY!" (LAEPBF)

Sure, it'd be nice to have that money. But I'm super psyched I'm not either of those two people. Also, I haven't quite decided if I want kids.. you know, will I screw them up, am I capable of being that self-less? But between watching the parents on High Maintenance and Wife Swap tonight, if I don't have kids, it won't be because I'd be the worst mom ever. These people? They make mandatory tube tying/vasectomies seem reasonable. Instead, if I don't have kids, it will be because no one is important enough to watch Barney for... no one.

I'm not going to lie to you..

It hurts.

But it doesn't hurt as much as it used to.

Good luck Colts! If you have the nerve to beat us, you better take it all the way.

Lonely at the top...

It's lonely at the top, they say. And if I hear this phrase again in the next few weeks I may be inclined to pull the skin off of my face.

It's been an odd couple of years for me professionally. I left a place where I was relatively happy due to a lack of happiness in other aspects of my life, and have experienced a couple of different organizations and job titles since. One of these adventures taught me I missed my field, so I went back to the field, just with a different institution. The other taught me I missed the circumstances surrounding my original institution. Those, however, I can't quite recapture.
Oy.

I've been very lucky professionally. Job searching has come relatively easy, I've had success in getting interviews, things like that. I've also managed to work my way up the professional totem pole in a quick manner... perhaps too quick.

Which leads me to my point. I've been propelled professionally in the past two weeks. I'm about to take over, in a temporary manner, a very important position in my office. A couple of people have put a tremendous amount of faith in me in recommending me for it. The original problem was I wasn't sure if I could do the job. Don't get me wrong, that problem hasn't gone away. The problem currently embracing that original problem is that it's clear that, beyond the two that recommended me, others aren't exactly, well, thrilled by the prospect.

Who knows. Maybe it's the atmosphere of flux that currently surrounds our place of work at both the macro and micro levels. Maybe it's messaging in general. Maybe they're just a bunch of people who'd rather complain than be positive. Maybe it's a combination of all of these things.

Or maybe it's just me. Yah, see, I really can't shake that it's me. Someone told me on Thursday that one of these days I'd have to realize that I'm incredibly competent. I know that's true.

I've sought advice from a number of people about this over the past week. "It's lonely at the top" I keep hearing. Thing is, it was already lonely. That's what happens when you enter into management at a new place rather than work your way up through the ranks in one place. Now, it appears, it's about to get lonelier.

I tried to do the friends thing where I am currently. I tried very hard in fact. But it just didn't work. It's hard to balance friendship and professionalism when you're responsible for that person's performance evaluation and salary increase, or lack thereof. As such, I have no real friends at work. This, of course, is completely foreign to me. The vast majority of my better friends I have worked with at some point in time. In fact, really, all but two... my guy and my roommate. The Megs, Katy, Ashley, Tom, Nicole, Rachel, to name a few... they're all from work.

So it's a lonely existence and I'm constantly feeling like the bad guy. I'm no good at feeling like the bad guy. As self-critical as I can be, I know I can also be fun to work with, that people can count on me, that I make a winning joke from time to time. Everytime I've left a job I hear at least once "I'll really miss hearing your laugh". I don't laugh much where I am now. To quote Shakespeare, "That bloweth". Ok, he didn't really say that. But to accurately quote Keira Knightly in Love Actually, "I'm nice. I really am. Apart from my terrible taste in pie..." So, as I sit here on Sunday afternoon, I dread tomorrow. Like, woke up this morning and thought "Aw crap."

I'm going to get through it. We're going to get through it. And I'll emerge stronger and with a much thicker skin, as we all know I could benefit from that. Still, it's a bit of a buzzkill for the time being. I do, however, have every intention of learning as much as possible from this opportunity and milking it until I turn it into cheese. (Robbie Williams.. only one person who reads this blog knows I stole that from him)

So, thanks to those of you who have already counseled me through this, and thanks in advance for continuing to do so. I'll apologize now if the next few months have me a little less available for fun.. there's just no telling what's around the corner. Perhaps another search for better circumstances.. and fewer dementors.

Vive Ellis

I was glowing last night.

No, this isn't one of THOSE blogs. But it's how my guy described me as we walked out of my fourth Ellis Paul show last night.

I was first introduced to Ellis as a wee intern on Capitol Hill in the summer of '99. I had just returned from a semester in London, only to have two weeks at home before I made my way, all by my lonesome, to Washington, DC. I had applied for an internship with a Congressman from my home state of Maine and earned the honor. It was one I could not pass up.

My fellow intern, Lance, told me about some free concerts going on at the Kennedy Center's Millennium Stage. Ellis Paul, a folk musician from Maine, was playing that night, and he was going with our scheduler, Susan. Did I want to join them? Such was my introduction to my favorite songwriter of all time.

There's a lot to love about Ellis. As a musician and a personality, he's completely accessible. His shows are still very much about pleasing his audience, and his banter back and forth with his crowds throughout his shows demonstrate not only his sincerity, but also hammer home the fact that you just can't take the small town out of the boy. Granted, the success he has experienced has not been mainstream, and perhaps that alone has kept him a little more pure. He joked at last night's show, a celebration of the release of his new "Essentials" CD, that under typical circumstances it would be a Greatest Hits CD, but that would require him to have had at least one, well, "hit".

Despite the fact that you've yet to hear Ellis on the Top 40, he has experienced tremendous success within his own community, featured at a variety of folk festivals (including those dedicated to his hero, Woody Guthrie - whom he sports a tattoo of on his right shoulder - he showed it off last night) and showcased at songwriting retreats across the country. His tours are worldwide and his music has been featured in television (Ed) and film (if only Me, Myself and Irene had been a better movie!). Perhaps even more importantly, however, is the loyalty of his audience. Ellis enjoys a dedicated following of all ages, demonstrated in the range of ages in attendance last night - age 2 to age 70-ish, who regard him with the revelry of a rock star but also the intimacy of a next door neighbor.

Of course, this is all fluff. What matters is his music. I'm hard pressed to find a musician whose lyrics alone move me in such a consistent and emotional manner. He is a poet without pretension. His songs have earned my personal "theme song" status at various points in my life. "The World Ain't Slowin' Down" saw me through a couple of journeys encompassing many miles, both literally and emotionally. "Maria's Beautiful Mess" assures me of the normalcy of madness and passion. "Take All the Sky You Need" has guided me throughout my most recent relationship and "Sweet Mistakes" reminds me that things, perhaps, truly do happen for a reason. Or, if they don't, maybe I'm making the most of them and doing it better than I thought I was. "Home" puts its arm around me swears to the fact that men can be humbled by the love of the right woman. He is a storyteller fascinated by the human subject, and if the music does not apply to you personally, it applies to someone you know, or, at the very least, someone you want to know.

And then there's the voice. It ranges from a whisper to a proclamation, and the sound is all his own. Its unique tone almost defies the wisdom from which his lyrics are born. Despite his 42 years, it brings about an atmosphere of discovery. His recounts of first love in Summertime sound as if it could have happened last week, rather than 25 or so years ago in Northern Maine.

Finally, it's the stage personality that adds the sparkling ribbon to a package you cannot wait to open. He's just a little funnier than you, just a tad quicker, and perhaps even a little smarter than you. Just enough to want to always have him around, but never too much to feel like you're on different levels.

I recommend you run out and get Ellis Paul Essentials if you're in need of something new and thoughtful. It's unlikely he'll ever make it to your radio station, but it's just as unlikely that you'll encounter many more songwriters like him. I worry perhaps he was born to the wrong generation. Either that, or he's here just in the nick of time.