It's a new year. That time when my dentist says, "Out with the old teeth; in with the new." That time when we leave some things behind.
In January 1973, I left trumpet lessons behind. I picked that thing up, and neighbor dogs would clap their paws over their ears and howl. Little kids would yell, "Mama! Make it stop!"
In January 1974, I left piano lessons. And picked up the guitar. I'm so glad. Pianos are hard to carry.
In January 1983, I left behind a moustache. And some short shorts. Or at least I put the short shorts in a box. You never can be sure when these things will be back in style.
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