Then she said, “I took him into the place that they rented for him.” This lady, the grandmother, went to Hawaii and brought back some lovely Hawaiian music, and he wanted to hear the record. So she brought the records out and among the records she had among them my record, and she said, “It’s Neville’s record.” He said, “I want to hear Neville’s record. I know Neville.” Well, he does know me, met me last summer. So she said, “But it’s all talking and I have some lovely music here from Hawaii. Let us play the music.” He said, “No, I want to hear Neville’s record.” So she puts on the record, and it came to a certain passage, he said, “Neville had a baby,” just the most natural thing in the world for him that Neville, a man, should have a baby. And then, a few bars further on, where I held the child in my arms and called it by some endearing term, “How is my sweetheart?” he said to his grandmother, “Neville loves his baby.” At the end of the record, he said, “Play it again.” She said, “But no, you’ve heard the record.” “I want to hear that record again.” So he sits on the floor in a lotus posture like some little Buddha listening to the record, not really grasping it. And so, she had heard the record many times and she knows the record backwards. She got busy about the house when he said, “Shhh,” with his hand on his mouth, “Neville’s talking.” So she had to stop what she had intended to do and come back and listen for the umpteenth time to the record.191 ¶43