A little over a quarter-century ago, I was neighbors with Cricket Taylor, a singular voice from a city with a lot of musical talent and musical tradition. We were both living in arts spaces in Exposition Park, right across from Fair Park south of downtown, complete with communal kitchen and restroom spaces, and the best thing about getting up early for my day job was listening to her practice new songs in the women’s restroom while I was eating breakfast. I don’t miss a lot of the early Nineties, but hearing her again, I really miss those breakfasts.
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