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CHAPTER 17
    My long-forgotten ory peeked out from beains. tions McInnes posed during  ury, and fragments of tions began intruding into my life. e e imitation of Simon and Garfunkel  of my mout I ripping, and art over after a brief apology to t o t   on tep. A pograp day of sc. Id see myself superimposed over ted in t  er, but not rying to remember my o t German boy stole aime I drew near.

    to substitute anotant past, I o ternative fingerings and to myself, puss aed ion of becoming a composer again even as college aspirations faded o abstract patterns, en I o Oscars after a fe of coffee, and scribble tations resonating in my o imagine an orcra in t empty barroom, and tic confusion over entative steps back to t, to my true nature. I spent ages looking for t, and tossing it aion  time as my own name.

    tudio most mornings. Oscar arrived around luncernoon for reime for me to cover up my  tice o begin on an early summer afternoon in 67. George, Jimmy, and Oscar experimented  tly smoking and drinking. t of screet. truck pulled up outside, and a moment later tion, Leopped in tting doalk ion oo soft to be over ts sorroo ears, and George and Jimmy and I c knoe o say or do. Oscar led o tall s, ion mark, ing on the rail, so we crowded around our friends.

    quot;; Oscar said. quot;Since last nig looking for  t found  years old, man.quot;

    quot; does ; George asked. quot;s  see ;

    Leraig;er my brot t-looking kid you could find. Brohe ground.

    quot;; I asked.

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