The musician arrived with a bag of 30 harmonicas.
He selected two.
And he began playing both of them, together.
A folk song.
A beautiful tune, newly interpreted. His way.
There were many others of us there.
We all had jobs to do.
(I myself “co-produced.”) (I also made some sandwiches.)
Whatever each of us was doing. . . . .
When the man played, and sang, we heard him. Oh yes.
“A recording was made,” as they say.
There is more. Much, much more.
Stay tuned, my friends.
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