Let me think about music for a minute. My first introduction to music came from my memory of being held in my mother's arms very comfortably. I remember the feeling was very warm and the sound was like that of The Lone Pilgrim being harmonized by the congregation. From my very early childhood on, I can remember my mother singing. She'd sing around the house while churning butter, or while patching some of dad's overalls that he'd worn the life out of. My dad didn't play around the house too much. He was a pretty serious fellow and devoted most of his evenings to trying to see that we got enough of the word of God so that we knew the Golden Rule and the way to live morally decent lives, and that we knew some of the songs so that we could sing along when he took us to church. Both of my parents worked very hard to keep us from starving; there were eleven of us in the family, and it was right during the depression.