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There are no hindrances
to keep provincials such as yourself from pursuing dreams of rock 'n' roll greatness.
For a bagful of clams, you and some neighbourhood bone-grubbers can buy some
serviceable instruments, make your caterwauling monkeyshines available to the
public, and while away years of your lives trying to strike gold in the salt mines
of Rock ... Perhaps, after selflessly giving the best years of your life to rocking
and rolling, you will find yourself in some dingy supperclub listlessly
performing your old hits to a small audience of apathetic drunkards sprinkled
with drunken apathetes. You may wonder if you would have been better off with a
more dignified calling, such as blowing dogs in the park for nickels. The
answer is yes.
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