One time, at band camp, myself and certain female counterparts simultaneously discovered that a part of my anatomy was dangling below
my shorts. This moment proved pivotal in the way I view music -- for the first time, I realized it to be a source of humiliation. Later, when blasting out "Mars, the Bringer of War" during Holst's "The Planets," I found that music can be strangely liberating. Even later, when attempting to dance while white, I found that music can be both simultaneously. I learned to play quarter notes and half notes on my trumpet, then progressed to more sophisticated notage through the (Toledo, Ohio) Whitmer Symphonic Band -- where I played tuba -- and the Marching Panthers (the source of his anatomical humiliation). Thirteen years of reporting and editing later, I am a free-lance writer and substitute teacher, seeking a full-time gig as a reporter at a major daily newspaper.

Favorite bands/artists : Talking Heads and Moxy Fruvous (a Canadian pop group -- check them out on