I've always made it a point not to say too much in public about my friendship with John Cage and Merce Cunningham, partly because lots of musicians of my generation had similar experiences, some far deeper than mine, and partly because the relationship felt special and I didn't want to appear to be trying to capitalize on it in any way. But recently I've found myself talking about John and Merce in ways I seldom have before. The latest occasion was an interview with Robyn Ravlich that Nora and I did yesterday at ABC Radio National in Sydney for her Into the Music series. (It will air sometime after the first of the year.) In it, I told several favorite stories. One was about chess. John loved playing games with people. He said a person's true character comes to the surface when they play games. And one of John's favorite games was chess. He was a fabulous player who played almost every day. He had even studied the game, first with Marcel Duchamp (actually John played with Teeny, Marcel's wife, while Marcel gave advice over their shoulders), later with Bobby Fischer's teacher. I also played chess, so when, in the late '70s, I wound up living a few blocks from John in the West Village in New York, we played two or three afternoons a week. Later, we played almost every time I came to visit. But while I'd played since childhood, I wasn't in John's league and it took some ten years of playing before I won my first game from him. (I did come close a few times.) When I later mentioned this to John he said “surely not, that can't be true” but I'm almost certain that it was. Anyway, when the interview with Robyn ended and Nora and I were walking back to our hotel in Surry Hills I wondered why I'd been so willing to open up. You could say Robyn's a good interviewer, asking simple questions that elicit thoughtful answers. And that she is. But it was also more than that. When John died in 1992 I declined all requests by NYC radio stations to appear on air discussing his life and work. It seemed too exposed and personal; I wanted my memory of him to remain private. But with Merce's death a month ago their partnership, the artistry, and the era came to an end. John and Merce are history now. And the job of those of us who knew them is to keep their memory alive.