This morning I faintly heard a rapping at my chamber door.  “That is very queer”, I mumbled under my breath, for I did not expect any visitor.  Candle in hand, I scurried down the great oaken staircase to investigate.  I hesitated to open the door, for if it were the paparazzi I would surely have to contend with a viral daguerreotype of me in my night-cap.  But another knock came – more urgent than the first – so I disengaged the lock and helped the great door open, as it creaked and moaned from this first bit of activity in ages.  Alas!  There stood my band.  In my musings I must have lost count of the days.  We were to rehearse this morning!  I showed them to the parlor and dashed off to compose myself. 

This rehearsal that I speak of is to prepare for to-night’s concert at The Family Wash.  We are scheduled to go on-stage at the strike of Eight-Thirty.  A rehearsal was imperative because The New Transcendentalists have never appeared on-stage before in this manifestation.  To-night, they will be comprised of Mr. Goforth, Mr. Norris, Mr. Perkinson, and Ms. Dickinson, two of which (N & P) I have never consorted with musically.  It has been the case, prior, that each of my concerts is marked by a unique supportive cast.  Methinks it keeps the music creative and in-the-moment.  There is no sleeping at the reins. There are those who would seek to control every aspect of a performance, but I am no musical autocrat.  I have found it most likely that a mature cast of players will create magic beyond my comprehension when left to their own devices.  We have convened this morning to establish a basic structure for the performance, but things could happen on-stage to-night which are beyond my wildest imagining.  It is my sincerest hope that you will choose to join us this special evening as we conjure rhythm and melodie.

With fervor!
Mr. J. Hazelwood