Eastman Eve

As my mother said earlier, for a place that averages ninety inches per year, there isn’t much snow around here. All we’ve seen so far has been rain, and a few small drifts in places that are old an the typical dirty New York snow.
People around here know Eastman, not that I should really be surprised. At dinner, the waitress – who was formerly a trumpet player – was encouraging (not to mention sympathetic) about tomorrow’s audition:


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