Brilliant neighbors

From the Greatest Bus Driver in the World: Poultry notes, featuring a thoughtful exegesis of soon-to-be-ex Justice Connor and her memorable career in the entertainment industry. His Back to the Blog combines some excellent writing on antidepressant medications with careful observations of Jon’s cat and the environment.

Meanwhile, in Wisconsin, B^2 breaks radio silence with one of his patented, remarkable comicstrip remixes. This time, it’s a melancholy reflection on memory and loss cast as a Mark Trail Sunday strip. Genius! He’s a freaking genius! He does seem to be feeling rather down, I’m sorry to say.

A thank you to Chris for his link to SuperDuper, and I note with pride a link to the ineffable IOCNM.

Finally, Editor B has been chronicling his passage upcountry, from the Mississippi delta (which, as you all know, shines like a National guitar) to my hometown of Bloomington. In today’s entry, he hooks us quickly with a tale of dining in a cave before moving on to celebrate the peculiar and kind ways of this vast and contradictory land on the eve of its’ birthday celebration.

Hopkin Update

Seven months later, my Hopkin Explained post is still generating interest and links from large collaborative sites. Every other month, on average, someone links to it from a high-traffic link-collector, and I get another day of several thousand site visits to the page. Just today, MetaFilter, a site in which I actively participate, linked to this page – again. A commenter there chucklingly suggested I should link to the thread, and so I have.

Another commenter in the MeFi thread is curious about a link in a comment posted here after the initial publication. In that link, citizenkafka recounts calling Terry’s mom about two weeks before I did, and mentions a) Terry’s mom knew about lostfrog.org and b) that Terry has a new frog. These recollections appear to contradict things in my initial post which Terry’s dad told me. I don’t necessarily see them as contradictions.

I did not speak to Terry’s mom, but to his dad. The family is of an ethnicity that often emphasizes patriarchy and the adults clearly speak English as a second language. I didn’t want to step on toes by grilling Mom or Sis or Granny.

Terry’s dad told me what I recount – he was unaware of the web’s interest, and so was Terry, and that was a good thing as far as he was concerned. I specifically asked if other people had been calling, and he indicated that no-one had.

However, not mentioned in the thread comments is yet another story of someone calling Terry’s family. In this story, a forum participant (possibly affiliated with the very first site to post the image) called and spoke with Terry’s sister. I can’t recall the details of that interaction, but the poster noted that he was encouraged not to locate and give a new frog to Terry.

Finally, Terry’s dad did tell me that he has a new frog. Although I don’t recall this explicitly, I believe I must have asked if the frog was called Hopkins. Terry’s dad emphasized that the frog was different. I was surprised to note that I had not included this detail in the original post, presumably a result of having determined that the new frog was not Hopkin.

I believe that in all probability the other members of the family just never mentioned the calls regarding the appearance of the flyer on the web – remember that Terry was actively posting these flyers for at least six months, and that they included a phone number. Others must have called before the web got hold of it.

So in my mind, the different narratives associated with Terry’s family boil down to internally consistent perspectives, despite the apparent contradictions. It’s possible, of course, that Terry’s dad actually was aware of the internet hubbub but chose to deny it in order to keep our conversation brief. Of course, over time it becomes more likely that the family will become aware of it, as well.

Update

It’s done. I closely examined the J21 M, per Tom’s comments, but concluded that a 1995 D-16T was a superior choice, acoustically, aesthetically, and financially (it was less than half as expensive as the J21 M).

Don't be late!

8X-Day: JUNE 30 – JULY 5, Sherman, NY.

“You’ll notice that July 5 lands on Tuesday this year. DON’T PINK OUT! This is YOUR ONLY RELIGIOUS HOLIDAY.”

Let the will of slack be done. Me, I’m afraid I’m slacking, so no pleasure saucers for me this year – again!

Guitar

The time has arrived.

I am in the market for a mid-range acoustic guitar. I am considering the current O-series mahogany Martins, but have always played pre-owned instruments and would be thrilled to find an older guitar as well. Currently the Trading Musician has their usual broad selection, including a 1979 Gibson, a 1975 Guild, and a Martin J21M as well as several Martins priced well out of my range. After years of pawnshop trolling, I had come to think of the Trading Musician as a bit pricey, but compared to the undeniably mouthwatering goods available online from Jet City Guitars (at the time of linking, the lowest-listed guitar price is over $2k), and there are several items listed at over $10k), the listed prices and selection appear quite reasonable.

You know, that ’33 is more or less what I want, come to think of it. It’s over my budget, though.

As it happens, just up the street from the Trading Musician is the Folkshop (apparently and appropriately not online), which always has new and used Martin inventory on hand.

For the record, my current guitar is an end-mounted tension-bridge parlor Stella (but quite unlike the guitars that site celebrates, mine is more like these). Mine is probably from the 1970s. It’s covered with stickers and some ill-advised marker graffiti from the previous stewards, now lost in the mists of time. When I started playing it, it sounded like shit and played like an instrument of torture. The action was high enough that it hurt to fret it, and when I lowered the action, the fret buzz made the thing into a cousin of the sitar. The original machine heads in conjunction with the end-mounted tension bridge meant that for ages I was convinced that the instrument could not stay in tune.

After many years of fiddling, I can report that the instrument has a decent voice, at long last, and while it’s still a bear to fret, the action is not nearly the painful torture mechanism it once was.

I once knew a kid who moved to the US to attend high school from his native Venezuela. He told me about how he learned to skateboard. He was a gifted skater who was able to outperform most of the other kids we hung out with. His first skateboard was made by nailing the wheels from a steel-wheeled adjustable roller skate to the bottom of a 2×4 plank.