IS THIS THE TRAIN TO DESERT MOON? Very low-grade brush with fame on the BART train home from San Francisco this afternoon. Across from me are two guys, taking the train in from SFO, one of them packing a guitar case, the other looking very very familiar. After a while, its clear that he's talking to this nice couple about the pros and cons of being a rock star:"Do I deserve this fortune? I used to wonder about that, but then I realized "deserve" has nothing to do with it. But it's what I have, so I try to do something good with it." That's nice and all -- and sincere -- but it took me 35 minutes to place the guy: light-to-medium rock; late 70s/early 80s: REO Speedwagon? Air Supply? And as he's getting off the train in Walnut Creek, of all places, it hits me that it's Dennis DeYoung of Styx. Now, damnit, I've got ten good Styx references off the top of my head, only three of them about Mr. Roboto. Cornerstone was the third album I ever owned and I missed my chance.
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