I take a pad out of my knapsack and look at the empty page. You’d think I would have written down a million questions to ask him when Lansing told me he had an in. Now I’m at his gate and I’m all out of things to say. I know there’s a story and I know I want to know it, but now I’m wondering if this is what I want. I can’t figure out if I just got a sudden case of the chickenshits or if I am slowly realizing that even though the Singer is the center of the story that it really isn’t his story. Like there’s a version of this story that’s not really about him, but about the people around him,
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