[Twangmeister]

was (and still is) a mind-boggling peice of work. When I first opened it up it looked like a set of football plays from another galaxy. I finally screwed up the courage to call Ted around 1980 to take some lessons. He was living in his parents' house (in the Valley, if memory serves), and he couldn't have been more gracious or patient. He would interrupt a lesson to scoop up one of the cats running through the room. For a reason I can no longer remember, I stopped going- probably because I felt overwhelmed and not ready to receive that level of study. Still, I clearly remember being in the presence of someone through whom music just flowed, like breathing, effortlessly, without making it seem like work. Just being around people like that makes you want to be a better player, maybe even a better person.