Here's an odd reflection for today:
My orthodondist when I was a teen played tenor banjo in a Dixieland band. One day while chatting with me in the chair, he discovered that I played guitar. He got very animated, announced that he played the banjo, and disappeared out of the room. He returned with an ornate tenor banjo, and proceeded to play and sing "Yes, Sir, That's My Baby" there in the exam room. He was very good. He really wanted to talk about music, but I was a sullen teen who just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
At the time, I thought he was the world's biggest dork, and I was embarrassed for him. Now I think he was unspeakably cool. Funny how time does that to you.