London’s Evening Standard from 1966: “Three girls, one of them named Twyla Tharp, appeared at the Albert Hall last evening and threatened to do the same tonight.” So what? Thirty-seven years later I’m still here.
I was at Borders over the weekend and found the Twyla Tharp book. I wasn’t looking for it. It was on the Software Development shelf. It shouldn’t have been there but it was, so I felt that it was my destiny to buy it and read it.
It was meant to be . . .