In 1955, when I was age 24, the Army released me from my two years' service, at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. At that time of my life I had a forlorn (and unjustified, as I see it now)obsession to be a professional folk song singer--whatever that may be. I had hardly touched a guitar for two years in the Army. I headed for NYC with my separation pay.

One night I attended the NYC Purple Onion, where a black folk singer named Tedd Browne was performing. At a break I said hello. After the club closed we talked and traded songs until deep in the night, and I confided my ambition. Despite my rusty condition, he invited me to take over one of his sets at the club the next night, which I did, with one of the partners standing at the back of the house. An Audition! I think I did a pretty good job.

There was some encouraging talk, general suggestion though not a promise, of my singing at either the San Francisco or New York Hungry Eye, but nothing definite. As I recall, for some reason now forgotten the ball was left in my court for whatever the next move was. I got cold feet. I told myself the reason was because I wasn't sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life singing to drunks in gin mills and the like. With the cold, clear eye of retrospect I now think it was mainly because I knew in my heart that my guitar and general musical abilities were too weak. I didn't do whatever that next step was, and the whole thing went away.

Thereafter I went into an entirely different field, using some of my undoubted strong points, and I've had a more than satisfactory and comfortable career, and a wonderful family with a Beautiful Wife I'd never have met if the professional singing career had been followed and perchance had worked.

And yet, and yet, and yet......   

Dave Oesterreich