Guess what? This room contains all that I might think to tell you about the composing I’ve done.


Of course that’s not true. For one thing, that concept—“all that I might think to tell you”—is wholly hypothetical, subjunctive mood all the way, contrary to fact, and all that. For another, I have not world enough, nor time . . . and you certainly have not the patience.

So let’s be realistic. On these pages—in this metaphoric room—there will appear scattered bits of information about music that has had my name attached, with some recollections about how these bits came to be.

But for now . . . well, it’s June 7th today, and “June was full of promises . . .” No, wait: that was May. June was something else, something explosive . . . let’s see, now . . . hang on, gimme just a sec . . .