
Saga of a Guy Who Flipped From Poky
“I walk alone,” the voice on the phone told me, more as an apology than as a boast. “With me, it’s habit. I guess I never learned any other way.”
The voice was a man’s and a drawl. It continued: “Funny I should be calling somebody like you for help after all these years of going it alone.”
The time was about 3:45, yesterday afternoon.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“I need-” he started, and stopped. “Is this phone tapped?”
“No.”
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Everyone remembers certain of his teachers, particularly the ones who inspired or stirred him, even if he has lost touch with them and never sees them now.

