I've purchased and listened to the new Michael Franks album "Time Together." It's arguably his best work in decades. Insightful and cathartic and genuine. And yet, there is barely anybody I know personally who won't cringe a little and whose nose won't wrinkle up in distaste should I even mention the name of Michael Franks, let alone play any of his music in their presence. As it turns out, I don't really know very many people anymore anyway. But enjoying the music of Michael Franks has always been a clandestine affair for me, and with this new release it strikes me yet again how much I don't enjoy feeling like I can't listen to his music without having to apologize for doing so.