I was riding the IRT in New York when a lovely young lady approached me in that shy, hesitant manner that musicians often encounter. She had the look of someone about to ask for an autograph. I put on the humble, golly-gee expression and tried to look blase about the whole thing (first time for me). She said, "I saw your performance at the Gaslight, and I really liked you. Would you sign this for me, Mr Sky?"
Any of you sports guys remember what it's like to take one in the cherries?