So here's what happened today fourteen years ago (now twenty years, two-thirds of a lifetime away). Let's add the other parenthesis: my first memory is about brown cows. Between those two dates I am strung taut like a string on a violin, and my original note played; my harmonics and tones since then emerging, recombining, gaining texture, depth and power; resonating and causing resonance, folding in and over, unique rhythms and vibrations arising and overlaying, until now when I have become a full, rich, individual note. But the pure, simple first harmonic is present still and - the entire stretch of my memory of him - those seven years are deep inside me, my spine, valuable, and appreciated.