Meeting Care once and listening to her beautiful assembly of divine grooves had left me with fond memories of a fine August evening on the Isle of Somadic Orcasites. Care searches for her next record, laughing and carrying on like a cutsie mouse playing on a hampster wheel. It will be some time before I see her again...

In June of the next year I found myself wandering accross a grassy field in some red-neck mountain town headed toward an orange circus tent emanating gorgeous sounds a' plenty. I walked away from the conversation amongst friends that had just moments ago captured my undivided attention - "I must find out what is making those sounds in that tent". Several hundred stumbling yards later I poked my head inside the fabric and saw a large empty cavern with an alter and a dj setup - but no people, no dogs, and no dj. Wandering closer to the decks I noticed the little bobbing head of a spaceling digging through the contents of a record bag, a smiling face peered up at me and sighed. Of course, what was making those sounds, those beautiful sounds, was a gentle CareBEAR of the very endeering variety. Such fun we have when we're together - that CareBEAR and I... ;-)