I am in a room with a large wall window. A woman is on the other side. She has pages and pages of lists of songs, by the decade, and is going through the list with me. We're looking for songs we like. Bill Cosby comes in from a door at the left and is deftly "playing" the wall, like it is a piano keyboard. Then he plays the keyboard to the right of the wall, under the window. It is a complex piano piece like the flight of the bumblebee. I am impressed and ask him how he does that, on the wall. He shows me some intricate hand moves that simulate a piano sound. I call to the girls upstairs to come see Bill Cosby. They come down, but he is gone and they are disappointed. Now a group is going to the concert and a guide or two is there to show us how to walk across the ledge of stones, a thin row of stones across a vast precipice. It's a scary walk, but we are doing it. Suddenly a young person falls off, but surprise, the guides are quickly down at the bottom to catch them, so no one is hurt. No one can get hurt even though it seems a dangerous walk. Now I go up a hall, up a few stairs to a small room, in the Hult, Studio One, it is called. Small baby children are playing an elaborate pipe organ-like instrument with their adult helpers. It's pretty, maybe Mozart, but not the concert I came to see. I move on in search of another room. I find one where adults are doing the same kind of music. Now I need to go to the bathroom and find a stall. It is a mess in there. There's a toilet, a pediatrics commode, all shitty, and a pool of urine on the floor. I don't want to touch anything. A woman pops her head in and apologizes for the smelly commode. I try to pee in the pool on the floor without dragging my clothes in it. It is difficult. I decide to leave.