When I was growing up in Seattle, there
was an old man who lived down the street
who played the cello. Every day he'd be on
his porch with it. His cello however had only
one string and he'd place his finger in one
spot while drawing the bow back and forth
droning on for hours at a time.

One day I approached him curious and
a bit bored of the ceaseless droning and
commented. "Other cellists have four
strings on their cellos and they move
their fingers constantly when they play."
He replied, "Yes I know. They are LOOKING
for the place. I have found it."