Lately I have been in renewed contact with some high school and grade school classmates from long ago. Looooong ago. My 50th high school class reunion is coming up. though I'm inclined right now (well not right now, right now I'm sitting) to forecast that I prolly won't actually put on non-running shoes and stand around in a country club...but to actually talk with or correspond with your old classmate chums, and some who weren't necessarily chums, is such a gas.

I can't recommend that experience highly enough. All kinds of inhibitions (and baby I got 'em) melt away. The kids you went to school with don't have to be introduced to you, and you don't have to vett them to see if they're still cool. They'll always be cool, unless they're serial killers and even then maybe. Interesting thing about remembering when is that the more remembering you do it the easier it becomes, and more is revealed to you. It's not that you've forgotten, it's just knowledge that hasn't been looked at for a long time.

I'm touring in Texas next week and am so looking forward to crawling 'cross the desert past steer skulls and remains of prospectors. It never occurred to me that my songs would do well in Texas, until they did well in Texas. Got to blame Kerrville, us humans' stab at Heaven On Earth.

The antipenultimate time I was in Texas I did some intense searching for old sheet music in antique stores and got questioned closely by a policeman (there's so many there to meet) in one sweet and dusty little town near the La. border. I looked suspicious. More suspicious than usual, if that's possible. If I saw myself I wouldn't trust me as far as I could throw myself. I don't know, Barbara says I'm kinda funny around the eyes. The policeman wanted to know how long I was going to be in town. (!) I was tempted to say I'd be gettin' out before sunset. I felt like Leo Gorcey.

Good thing I didn't get feisty though, cause my driver's license had expired and I didn't notice till later.The policeman didn't notice either, bless him.

I have a new live recording coming out momentarily, with the same lovely folks who put out Such Things Are Finely Done. That's the Tales From The Tavern group in Santa Ynez, California. That's where David Crosby lives. David would have stayed for my last show there but had to get a hot pizza home. You'd think he'd have enough bread by now that he wouldn't have to do that sort of thing anymore.

Henry Diltz, yes, THAT Henry Diltz, did stay for my show, however, and he certainly is a cool guy, not just cause of that. The CD is called Love Letter On A Fish. Why's it called that? you may ask, and well you might.

Yesterday (all our songs weren't quite so hard to play) I got two birthday cards from my sister Margaret, and one from Pat Fleming and Miriam Sturm. Yes, THAT Miriam Sturm. I am so fortunate in every way.

I would like to send my love and best wishes to Carol Albanesius, Richard Howick, Mary Lou Williams, Robert Longo, Marie Halachik, John and Diane Bell, Eileen Van Guilder, to Susan Palmer and Linda Marold wherever they may be, and (as always) to Dave Jeffreys. It was such a joy to be in school with you. Stephen Schneider, you dork, where's my damn Boy Scout knife?

Yes, THAT Stephen Schneider.

PS... my dear PVHS friend Charlie Forsythe's son Chris is a guitarist (to say the least) and let me tell you to check this guy out. Very bold music. Chris records for Pace and on their website there's a picture of him where he looks quite a lot like Charlie only handsomer and also a little like Oscar Wilde. Well, that's a combo and it works.

Speaking of Charlie, when some of us Little Falls kids were about sixteen we had this favorite park bench and when guys would show up to hang out we would welcome them by singing their names to "Humoresque". Charlie Forsythe's first verse went like this.

                Oh
                Charlie Forsythe Charlie Forsythe
                Charlie Forsythe Charlie Forsythe
                Charlie Forsythe Charlie Forsythe
                Chas

And that's just one of the many reasons why I will always love Little Falls.