The phone rang and an unfamiliar voice said: "Is this Jaan Uhelszki?" Assuming that the caller was a bill collector or someone of like obnoxiousness, I kept my tone as bland as possible.

"What's this in reference to?"

"I can only explain it to Uhelszki," the voice insisted.

Curiosity forced me to confess that this was indeed J. Uhelszki, further adding, "What can I do for you?"

"As a member of the working press, if I divulge certain facts to you, would you keep your source anonymous?"

At this point I was convinced he was putting me on. "Hey, listen, I'm a rock journalist, nothing more, so what could you possibly want to turn over to me?" (If it was a joke, I was going to play the straight man out of curiosity. I wanted to find out if he wanted me to let Prince Albert out of the can.)

"I have some confidential material conclusively proving that two of America's hit artists are perverts!" the voice boomed. By now he had me, hook, line and sinker.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Because I'm familiar with your articles, and you live in my neighborhood."