At a recent Paul McCartney concert in a packed sports arena one of my companions commented that if someone screamed “Fire!”, a lot of us might not survive the ensuing barbecue. I smiled, though in truth I would probably laugh until the flames consumed me. The explanation for my reaction is presented below. It was a unique moment that occurred during my formative years, long before The Three Tenors became an entity. Continue reading I Shot Jose Carreras→
In May, 1967, the fledgling Ear was a 19-year-old student born and bred in a small Midwestern town in Illinois. Despite rarely having been farther from home than the 45-minute drive to St. Louis and growing up in an area not known for its embrace of the Arts, I was irresistibly drawn to the nearest place to catch the Metropolitan Opera on its annual tour, which turned out to be Memphis, Tennessee, 400 miles away. Strangely, the need to do this (and it really was a need) was circuitously sparked by attending a double feature at the local movie theater with my little brother 6 years before.