Julius sighed with satisfaction as he listened to the playback of his latest work. Well, he thought, more like our work. Even now he found it surreal to be part of a “we”. For years he’d spun around the circuit in his 1974 Peugeot. The car was a classic before his music. Oh the bars he’d played just to collect enough money to keep it running from stop to stop.
How could he have ever imagined what he enjoyed now, a bus capable of hauling the sixteen members of his entourage, including the band, back-up singers and crew?
“Hey Julius, how come you never opine about the good ol’ days?” his young drummer shouted over his own rhythmic rattling on a window.
Julius thought for a few moments, drawing a repeat query from the young man who stopped his noise-making, thinking his leader couldn’t hear.
“There was a moment or two,” Julius said with a small smile. “But I like now so much better.”