Here I am, tied to the journey of a musical

Here I am, tied to the journey of a musical instrument through the ages and across continents, transcending spatial and temporal dimensions, a mere sub-plot, interwoven with the

pan flute. I basically wrote Zamfir's whole act. I was his road manager. I had a cancer kazoo. Zamfir would tickle my blow whole, and hold his pan flute next to it. It was the

best week of my life, but when Yanni calls, you answer. I packed my duffel bag and started walking. I got as far as Hoboken before

someone finally pulled over, flagged by my hitch hiking thumb. "Where you heading?" the old woman asked me. "Yanni's calling me," I replied. She simply nodded and opened the door.

She'd heard his music and wanted to attend the concert as much as I did. Yanni was a personal friend of mine from way back. His sister protected my innocence against my will

as I never understood the hypnotic attraction of Yanni playing the klezmer. While not Jewish nor gay (if there is a difference) never could avoid becoming turgid when I heard that

instrumental version of Barbie Girl is a Shikseh. Oy, was that a song, Girl! Two snaps up and pass the latkes.

But the rabbi was NOT amused. Why were all the parodies about MATTEL toys? Couldn't the guy at

CRAYOLA get made fun of for once? Of a somewhat tangential relation, the rabbi was rapidly becoming rabid. He really should have had that mongoose bite checked out sooner but now