My wife says it would be nice to win the lottery because then we could pay off the second mortgage, and I tell her that the odds she’s counting on for that are the same ones that malice it unlikely that she’ll be incinerated by a meteor on the way to work or even get hit by a bus or fall on the third rail and get fricasseed, all of which is perfectly possible, but statistics say it’s unlikely so why doesn’t she just relax. 

I realize of course that I’m no longer worthy of the name musician, if I ever was, though officially I’m still registered as a specially-funded pianoforte soloist with Segismundo Alegría and the Vienna Philharmonic for the duration of the Estabrook Festival, Summer 1978.