Guitar lessons

Heading into a subterranean warren of drop-ceilinged basement offices behind the Sovereign Bank I see there's a guy with a beard and yarmulke giving electric bass and guitar lessons to shaggy, quasi-pubescent Princeton boys. Guys who may or may not have figured out how to masturbate productively, at the same age as the one we refer to as "Cool" stood outside of Purdy's on Franklin one smelly July eve in the late seventies and proclaimed he had been counting his pubic hairs and had gotten to well over a hundred. You know the age.

So it's good to see that guitar's not dead, although, given the level of engagement with which these kids attack their instruments, it's almost there.