I met a guy once who was a friend of the Allman Brothers, and since he was also a musician, sat in with them on occasion. When I met the fellow, he was hitchhiking across the country with his large black Labrador retriever. A friend of mine who coming back to college to visit me had picked up the pair along a highway and the three of them camped out in my dorm room for 2 or 3 days, which included an afternoon when we drove over to Delabar State Park, and tossed large pieces of wood out into the Mississippi so the dog could swim out and fetch them. The dog always wore a red bandana, and, when it wasn't swimming, a fedora-style hat, which had been given to the dog by a wino they had met in the course of their journey. When they left to continue their travels, they gave me the hat as a token of remembrance. I kept it for many years, and I might have it packed away somewhere still. So, that's right, I was given a the hat of a dog that was probably known by the Allman Brothers, the dog, that is, not the hat. I don't know whether they ever saw the hat on the dog or whether they knew the wino. Well, that's my example of only a few degrees of separation from greatness. I guess we all have them.