 We played the concert, an hour and twenty minutes of things like sheep may safely graze and pasture, a truly boring experience. The audience never moved or reacted in any particular way. Back on the bus and out of danger, a Dixieland jam broke out and we boogied all the way home. Four years later, a college professor I admired and trusted told me he believed it was in my best interest to leave higher education before I learned how not to think.