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I come from a long line of real men... ...and women.
When I was born my parents were living in Menlo Park, California.
I was crazy about Zorro and developed a passion for secret doors.
My Grandmother took me to Santa Cruz.
I never met my Grandfathers. I don't remember my Dad's Mom, Emily. They tell me that when she died of cancer in our house at Stanford my Mom took my older brother and I to Oakland to clear out her apartment, so that we wouldn't be there when she passed. When I came home I was going up the stairs when my older brother told me she had died. I was excited (somewhere between age 6 and 10) and asked "Who shot her?". I never knew much about my Father's parents because he was the only child of only children, and we didn't spend much time with his cousins. He never had anyone to reminisce about the old days with, my Mom had never met his Dad. When I was getting ready to go to grad school we visited Marian Warmer, a lady in Carlsbad who had know my Grandparents and my Dad as he was growing up. I was fascinated to hear her and my Dad talk at dinner about my Grandfather's sense of humor, how my Dad would eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich everyday after school, and that the color of my beard was the same as my Grandfathers. That evening that side of the family came to life.
Friendly Lucas
My Grandmother, Friendly Sumner Lucas, was the only one of my Grandparents I knew. Her father was a cattle rancher and raised the money to buy his spread from playing poker and violin at dances. She had a lot of wonderful stories about her childhood in Nebraska, she would ask me to stop her if I'd heard one before--I didn't, because you have to hear them a number of times in order not to forget. She worked in medical social work and had an interesting career including such jobs as an administrator at Children's Hospital in Los Angeles (where she knew Walt Disney, a member of her board) and a teacher at a reform school in Sacramento. She was outspoken and encouraged my musical development. I liked to make her laugh.
Playing (?) with my older brother
City dudes
I began playing piano when I was six and soon changed teachers to work with David Lee Williams. I won a competition when I was 13 years old and played Haydn's Piano Concerto in G Major with the Palo Alto Chamber Orchestra. It was a transcendent experience for me, from the rehearsals with the fine youth orchestra, to the Bösendorfer grand on which I performed. David helped me compose a cadenza for the first movement, and when we got to it the first time in rehearsal and the strings stopped playing I could hear celestial reverberation continuing to accompany my solo.
When I was in the 8th grade my father took a six-month's sabatical from teaching, we bought a camper and toured Europe while he did some research on theaters (☺). I took my studies with me and remember the neighbors at the campground chuckling as I repeated after the cassette tape "Il paraît que le marchand de bois on decouvert une grotte dans le forêt." (It appears the wood vendor has discovered a cave in the forest.). I still remember that wonderful phrase and am still waiting for an opportunity to use it. It was a wonderful experience seeing many things from Ireland to Israel. We spent only one night out of the camper, staying at a bed and breakfast in order to watch the moon walk on television, the morning of our visit to Stonehenge. Other highlights included:
photographing the Loch Ness monster (turned out to be a movie production in progress)
the Deutsches Museum in Frankfurt
theatre productions in London
seeing Jerusalem, having our pictures taken on a camel
the acoustics of a Greek amphitheater in Turkey
Ann Frank's house
attending a concert of Arthur Rubenstein and shaking his hand afterwards
the monuments in Greece
riding my own Vespa on Corfu
seeing Michelangeli's work in Firenze and Roma
Leaning Tower of Piza
gondola ride in Venice
In 1969 I became a lifetime member of the International Association for the Abolition of Data Processing Machines. I believed computers were used for sinister purposes, like keeping track of citizens' private information and controlling the flight paths of weapon systems. We learned how to sabotage machines by cutting extra holes in magazine subscription cards (so the card reader would get the wrong information) and pasting stamps on sideways (so the ultraviolet bars of ink couldn't be read and the stamp would therefore have to be cancelled by hand). It wasn't until I found out that computers could be used to make music that I decided they weren't all bad.
During junior high and high school I continued with my interest in music. My friend, David Bendigkeit and I formed a dixieland band and I got better at playing by ear. I became the harpsichordist in the Palo Alto Chamber Orchestra and bought a clavichord. I loved the delicate touch of the instruments and the sounds they made. I took some harpsichord lessons from William Reed who introduced me to Rameau, and later as a freshman in college at Stanford with Margaret Fabrizio, who assigned me to read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance as part of our work to develop a new touch.
My senior year in high school I played Ravel's Piano Concerto in G Major with the College of Holy Names orchestra. The playing was inconsistent in the group, some parts were well-played, but some of the solos were not clearly articulated. Sister Teresa Cecille couldn't quite cut the rapid trumpet passages of the third movement. I still thing the second movement is one of the most beautiful musical compositions.
connesiurs) and the number 6. 
After finishing graduate school, I worked for five years with an 
