After church I concluded that the perfect plan was to shop at Sister's on Tate Street in search of some funky earrings sure to please the most persnickety of teenage girls. Next I would swing by Tate Street Coffee where my former guitar teacher Sam Frazier was playing a rare, almost unheard of afternoon gig.
I thought I'd hear a few tunes, give Sam a hug, and move onto the next gift on my list. So I slipped into a seat along the sidewall, sipped on my coffee, and casually leafed through the Sunday N & R. I hid behind a bunch of college guys with young hip hairdo's and who coolly contained their obvious admiration for the musicians at hand. And somewhere between the warm-up and Sam's finale, I went off to a place far far away from Christmas madness.
