Ellen McFaul was a patient spectator, and an infinitely tolerant young woman, ebulliently optimistic regarding just about any harebrained scheme Tom thought up, or that I would push him into.

When we started the band, Tom and Ellen had been married less than a year, and Tom was headed for graduate school, an advanced degree in ethnomusicology, and a job in which his most often asked question would be, ``Would you like fries with that?'' To pursue the rock and roll dream they both had to put all that on the line. I will brag about being personally cognizant of the fact that our plans would affect both their lives, and that it could put a significant strain on their marriage. One day that first summer Tom and I had a heart-to-heart about it, and he assured me Ellen was definitely ``in.'' And she was. Good old Ellen.

We all experienced some hard times in the years that followed, but we all survived and ultimately did well in life. I would never ask any of the people who were a part of my band -- either the players or their wimmenfolk -- whether they would do it over again. I don't need to ask, because I know what the answer would be, and I prefer to live in denial.