It doesn't seem possible that he could be 92 years old. It was only in 1959 or 1960 that I, as a teenager, was taking voice lessons from a summering music professor/advertising executive from Boston; the occasion in little old Cushing, Maine. On one occasion I went for a lesson at Rand Smith's summer cottage. Rand told me that he had a guest, but that we should just continue with my one hour lesson -- $7.50 an hour back then -- imagine!
So there we were, overlooking the St. George River, in a cottage on property where my father had long ago been a teenaged caretaker who had an eye for the beautiful young lady who, he later chagrined, was to be swept off her feet by the dashing young singer from Boston, the latter now my voice teacher reference this post.
We went through the realm of one hour of "mi, may, my, mo, moo;" scales and whatever; and there sat the unidentified guest. After the lesson, and I'd paid my blueberry-raking money to the marvelous baritone, Rand said, "I'd like you to meet my guest. Lawreston, say hello to Dave Brubeck." I was young, but not that young that I didn't know the significance of the guest.
A similar occurrence happened twice more during that summer. One occasion was meeting Leonard Bernstein, the other, Meredith Willson, the latter ironic in that I had seen in April, "Music Man" at the Majestic Theater, in New York.
HR
