I remember sleeping to the dreamy sounds of my father’s clarinet playing “Stardust”. It was just… well, comforting. Music was everywhere in my home, from my father’s Big Band Leader enthusiasm, my mother’s violin, hearing my grandfather’s greeting in Italian operetta by singing “Anybody Home?” just before the door closed. All five of us siblings received piano lessons from our mother. Good music was all around us, and the passion for it, to me, was understood and yet unexplained.