Jed ... Your present misery reminds me of a concert I gave in Vancouver, Washington, in 1963. It was a three day college "folk festival", filled with workshops, concerts, radio interviews ... the whole nine yards. The culmination was a Sunday evening concert and I woke up that morning feeling like something the dog drug out of the house and buried.

The family host drove me around until we found an olde time drug store open, I think I remember that a local cop pointed him out. I explained my delemma ... I had to sing that night and I couldn't even squeek! The druggist nodded sagely and told me to sit down for a while. He went into his dungeon and started throwing things into a crucible ... true story ... and ground them with his pestle (sp?). He then added pure alcohol and told me to drink some every hour.

That night I gave one of the best performances of my life. I was so buzzed that I was loose as a goose. The next day I was praised in a concert review in the local paper for my "command of my voice" and for my "very relaxed style." They don't make druggists like that anymore.

Best wishes from a new fan who sold tickets for you at your house concert in Seattle last Spring. CHEERS, Bob Nelson