It was an earnest environment with upbeat broadcasters, who consistently looked nothing like their fluid voices suggested. Since my mother worked in the media library, she got acquainted with each DJ's musical preferences. Neil always clutched a bundle of classical records. Bill liked predicting the next big hits (he and my mother both prophesied Corey Hart mania). At around this time, I started taking piano lessons. My mother's friends had a daughter who could play a beautiful version of Richard Clayderman's "Ballade pour Adeline." After hearing it, I declared "me too!"