Johnny wanted to be the best banjo picker in his sleepy little town in the hills of Kentuck. Every day when he got home from school and did his chores he got out his Gibson Mastertone and did his rolls, scales and chromatic runs that his last teacher had showed him.

His teacher finally said, "Johnny, you're too good for me. There's nothing left I can teach you. You know all your chords, scales and notes up the neck. You can read TAB and play along with any song. You're on your own."

One day someone told him about a man that taught at the local university, and had even played the banjo with an orchestra. So Johnny called the Dr. Frank and arranged to see him that Saturday.

Johnny was very excited and brought some sheet music for piano and his favorite CD with him as his father dropped him off at Dr. Frank's house. Propped up next to the piano was the most ornately carved banjo Johnny had seen.

"I hear you know everything about music," said Johnny.

"I should," said Dr. Frank. "I teach advanced composition and the theory class at the University," he said looking at the CD and music Johnny was holding. "What have you got there?" he asked.

"Earl Scruggs," said Johnny. "Here I'll put it on for you to play with."

"Oh no," said Dr. Frank, "I couldn't do that."

He picked up Johnny's sheet music and played the melody note for note.