"Just think about it," I tell Greg.

"You know I'm in.  I just hope tickets aren't a million dollars."

"I wish we could smuggle you in  Quincy's case."

"I wish I could ride in the bus."

We sit in bummed silence, until I say, "Maybe you can!"

"How?"

"Aren't you still in AP music theory?"

"Yes.  So?"

"Maybe you can join us for some class credit."

"It's a stretch."

"Mr. Mickelson teaches your class.  I'm sure we can talk to him."

"And he's not going to ask what you are up to?"

"Let's first get you to New York, okay?"