Birthdays seem to come more frequently these days. And those of the past are getting more difficult to remember. Where was I last year at this time? There were certainly lots of well-wishers, and my inbox was fuller than usual.

77 is a number that conjures up nothing. Okay, there was that TV show (77 Sunset Strip) and song from back in the late Fifties, but as far as anniversaries go, it is just a blip on the birthday radar.

As the summer broiled along, I participated in two music festivals. Both involved a combination of professional and student musicians, but that was pretty much where the similarities ended.

I have been going to Aspen since 1964, and it is safe to say that my path as a conductor began there. Much has changed. There were no traffic lights back then. At one time, the festival comprised just three shows a week; now it features as many as three a day. During my time as a student, there was only one orchestra. They played a single concert each week, led exclusively by the music director. The student body was around 150 when I attended and today includes hundreds more.