Ok, you got my attention. In high school I was quickly asked to leave the glee club rehearsal and I am the only one of those golden-throated crooners who has ever turned a nickle singin'. For 31 years now. HaHa. A "music reviewer" who evidently had a personal vendetta against me because he saw me walk out on his gig wrote that my CD was "good, but 20 years too late." Now what the hell does that mean in the context of "folk music"? An outrageously drunken patron of a southern Md. bar in 1976 kept yelling at me to "play some COUNTRY!" After I'd covered Hank, Jimmie, Merle, Buck, George, etc. he was still not satisfied. I pointed out what I had sung and just before the manager flung him into the parking lot, he shrieked, "Yeah, you done some country but you did it in the HIPPIE STYLE! Maybe I did. I've got many more, but you get the idea. When I entered into this odd occupation I did it partly for the true stories I would inevitably collect. At least when I'm a geezer I won't have to sit around reminiscing about TV shows I've seen with my fellow geezers. Keep truckin'. Frogmore.