I was visiting family in Michigan for my niece Alex’s graduation. We were on our way to one her clarinet recitals. I was in the back of the SUV with my other niece, Liz, and I think I was telling her about my recent artistic ventures and how I wasn’t quite sure what I should do next. For some reason, my mind went way back to when I was twelve years old, to the fond memory of creating an audio drama of an Iron Man comic book. Back then, all I had was a cheap cassette recorder, a cheap RCA microphone, my dad’s short wave radio, a couple of walkie talkies, whatever I could find in the house, and, my imagination. I did every voice except Iron Man (my friend did that), even the women. Iron Man pounding on a robot was me pounding on a cake pan. Iron Man breaking through a wall was me smashing a tray of ice. Reverb was created by recording in the shower. Lots of sound effects were created by mouth sounds. It was one of the most fun, fulfilling projects I ever did. No deadline, no grandiose business dreams, no aspirations of praise, fame or money. It was summertime. And that was enough.

As we all stepped out of the vehicle in Michigan