Letters home.
Haven't you finished that symphony yet? Well, get going. You've got a piano concerto to write as well. Don't hurry or anything .... it's due to the publisher on Friday. That's today. Man, some of these deadlines are hard to meet, particularly when you're living in a crowded, leaky potting shed in the courtyard of your former sqauthouse, the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. We're just trying to keep the ship afloat here, folks, and to do so we cannot limit ourselves to any single genre of music. That's why I have Marvin (my personal robot assistant) composing music for hire. This week he's working on modern classical music ... long hair stuff. Marvin knows what that's all about. I plugged a Classical Gas album into his tape drive. With all the disruption, you'd think our mail wouldn't find us, but never underestimate the power of mail carriers to find their target. They dropped us a parcel of letters, postcards, and newsletters as thick a...