I arrived in New York yesterday, and I apologize for not having posted more in the recent past as well as for the next few days of blog-silence that are sure to follow. I'm in town for various reasons: a few birthday extravaganzas, an ongoing lawsuit, some important medical appointments, and a travel story. But the most important for me is the Juilliard Masters' recital of my brother, Seth Baer, who happens to be about the most musical, fluid, good-humored, emotive, and refined bassoon player under 25 (bias aside, I hear lots of musicians in my line of work, and you can trust this assessment as no one knows his abilities better than me). Seth -- who graduated Princeton a few years ago, subs for the Philadelphia Orchestra when he's free, and played this past summer's Bridgehampton Chamber Music Festival -- doesn't have a Web site, so I can't link to any more info. Instead I'll say simply this: Bassoonists don't often meander out of their wonky woodwind worlds. The best often sound professional but lack direct expressiveness. Seth can nail orchestral excerpts like the best of them, but his expressiveness transcends his instrument's culture. His teacher, Frank Morelli, who plays principal for Orpheus and lights up other New York stages on a weekly basis with a jazzy gift for improvisatory feeling, has proved to be an excellent model to follow. I'm proud of my little brother. Who knew that when I returned from Tanglewood at age 18 -- armed with new Mahler recordings and yarns of orchestral antics to spin -- he would take the baton and run with it so beautifully. We all thought he would, of course. But on the eve of his official musical Bar Mitzvah, let me say that he continues to bring pride to a family of performers bred on making music with your heart, not just your hands. The proof? I now love an instrument I used to mock. Respect, S-treat.