This is a young Kenn singing an old folk song he didn’t really know, while playing an instrument he didn’t know how to play. It is predictably horrible, but might be funny to people who actually know me and love me for reasons that have nothing to do with music. Rather than merely burning the tape which is the only admissible evidence of the event, I include it as a cautionary tale to parents: Gee whiz, get your damned pianos tuned. After messing around with this stringed demon of a chunk of furniture for many hours in my childhood, it is no wonder my sense of pitch became random. Every pitch is just as good as the next one, right? Precision is an old wives tale. I thought this is how notes were supposed to sound. Do not do this to your own children.