My dearest Kimiko, Finn, and the wonder that is Polly. My heart is with you at this time; sadly, I'm afraid it is broken. Polly, I don't know that you remember me, and obviously in your storied career, there are many people who've had the honour of sharing a stage with you, or adored you from afar — much as I did. In what I consider the greatest of honours, I was able to accompany you on bass at two shows. Rehearsing with you, you never belittled me for my meagre bass playing at the time; instead you were so courteous, so patient, writing out all the chord changes in your songs. I never knew playing in a band could be like this.
You elevated me.
You enthralled me.
You were so gracious, downplaying your talent when I exuberantly would request songs ("How Do You Go"). I felt something like I'd never felt in the music scene before. I have two photos of me in costume (nothing too risqué!) that I treasure dearly, and proudly point out to the love of my life, now my wife, the good times I had playing with my favourite band, The Transvestimentals. I am proud to have been part of something bigger than I'd ever dreamed.
You, sir, are a gentleman in every respect. If I could give some portion of my remaining years to you, I would do so without hesitation, if only to hear you play again. But I'm lucky, because I don't think I'll ever forget a single note, a single lyric, for as long as I live.
With all our love, Justin and Susan Clow
Don Vito Donatiello