Once, when I was doing my radio show, I thought I'd be clever and get a phone interview, so I called directory assistance to get the phone number of their bass player, Joey DeMaio, in New Jersey (I knew the city then, I don't remember it anymore). I was a young teenager, probably 13 or 14, when I made the phone call, and I talked to someone who sounded like an elderly woman. Joey DeMaio sounded to me like quite the exotic name, so the idea that someone else could have the same name in the same city was completely foreign to me. When I asked to talk to him, she politely informed me that he was at work and wondered what I wanted to talk to him about. When I told her I wanted to interview him, she sounded like a question mark. I eventually told her that I was interested in his music, and she, once again very politely, informed me that I had the wrong Joey DeMaio. Dejected and deflated, I hung up, knowing that I just spent a small fortune on an international call that went nowhere.
So today, as I listen to Battle Hymn again, I revert back to myself about 30 years ago. But today I smile - those were indeed the days.
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