The evening could have been just the right length. At the benefit for New Music for Young Ensembles at Merkin Hall we each fit neatly into out fifteen-minute slot; Honi Coles, irresistible as he tapped to jazz improvisations; Jamie and Sharon, flawless in Ravel's duo; Roz and I, perfect in seven of my songs. But then Marvin Hamlish, unprogrammed and unbidden (so far as I know), usurped the stage and, with charmless vulgarity, showed no sighs of leaving after half an hour. So I (now sitting in the hall next to Red Heller who whispered, "Who is that man?") got up and left, in full view of the captive audience.