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our story: part ii

the sky had turned a dark, menacing gray when i decided to try that number again. double checking to make sure i dialed the right number this time, i waited For an answer.


"hi. i'm answering your ad from the baCk of the now magazine?"
"from the back of the now mag ... you're not some kinda perverT are you???"
"uhm ... well ... i uh ... i play keyboards and I've got chops!"
"really ..."
"yeah, really!"
"prove it."

with fingers furiously blazing through a frenzied rendition of the precipitatO, the third movement of prokofiev's sonata no. 7 in b flat that would make vladimir horowitz storm out in jealousy, i placed the phone on the sound board. once the raucous 7/8 finale was over in record time i placed the receiver back in my ear.

(stunned silence)

"my name's james and i like to play fast."
"who's the other guy? i saw two numbers on the ad."
"that's chris. chris is busy with his girlfrieNd right now. he likes to play fast too."
"like how fast? al dimeola fast?"
"like al dimeola, stanley clarke and lenny white on speed."


can this be real? so in awe was i, i couldn't even speak. i mean, that's just not possible! or was it? i must find out.

"2 pm this sunday at the rehearsal factory on st. nicholas. we'll meet at the starbucks at yonge and wellesley and head over."
"see you then."

<< Go back to Part I to begin the saga