At least a couple of dreams came true the past few months, what with there being John Prine and Paul Simon concerts in this fair city. I don't want to read too much into the fact that I didn't greet them with the delirium I used to invoke when I imagined these days in my bedroom. Part of it is the even-temperedness of growing up, and probably much less is due to my general emotional hesitance. Anyhow, each concert reminded me what great songwriters the two men are, and in particular each had a moment where I was reminded how their genius captured me when I first listened to their songs. It further added to the belief that there is something special in this medium when it is done right; and that these masters share this intuitive understanding of it, but are also blessed with the ability to draw from this mysterious force. It is a little sad that I personally have not found many people capable of carrying the torch into the next generation. But I'm grateful for what I have, so I'll keep humming that lonesome tune.