I love, love, love the presenter. He’s got radio teeth. He doesn’t cotton to those Beatles fellows with their three chords and layaway guitars. It’s a big bus, dude. Plenty of room for everyone. Even a dentist or two.

I sat closer than that to Milt Jackson once. If you’ve never sat right in front of a real vibraphone, you’re missing out. It doesn’t emit sound, exactly; it sprays audio champagne all over the place.