I thought I had all of his music, long buried among those vinyl time capsules still crammed into Orange crates I so lovingly brushed with three layers of shellac a lifetime ago. Certainly I played the “Together” album at least 1,000 times... just flat wore it out. Many nights were spent blowing harp to his music, a small wooden tray with shake and Mr ZigZag sitting nearby. But this album slipped by me somehow, so now is the first time I've even seen it. Of course we couldn't Google everything back then, so if it wasn't in my local head shop/record store, The Penguin Feather, it didn't exist for me. These days I can order it from Amazon with just a click or two of the mouse. Those guys are nice enough to keep my credit card on file so getting it from them couldn't be easier. In fact, it's too damn easy, too clean and precise. I miss the hours spent pouring over the record bins, talking about the new offerings with fellow travelers in the old Victorian house that was the Penguin Feather. Just opening the front door, its arthritic hinges squealing their objections at being forced to move, multiple layers of paint flaking off the frame like colorful potato chips, I would inhale deeply from a blast of scented air, heavy with incense, and salivate like a Pavlovian dog.