Monday, August 24, 2015

So I just googled...

“Is Jesse Felder shaving yet?”
Yes, he is.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Rat Rod-o-Rama

Charlie and I went to Pottsville (just north of Merlin) on Saturday for the Eighth Annual Rat Rod-o-Rama.

If you don't know what a Rat Rod is, it's a hot rod that's mechanically sound...
...but cosmetically challenged.

Some might say it's a hot rod that's not finished, but the true rat rodder knows it's never going to be finished.
Interior decoration is generally an afterthought...
...or maybe, in some cases, an obsession.
The general idea is to make do with what's at hand.
Here's a starter kit...

(Not sure I'd trust that spare.)
... and the price is certainly right.

"Runs and drives great."

That's what counts!
You could get started for a lot less.

Style, after all, is what counts.
Good door art is important.
Although some more resembles nose art.
It's very important when you're stitching all this together...
rat_rod_o_rama_thumb11.JPG ensure that your vehicle is not under-powered.

(Click the pic for a close-up.)

Monday, August 17, 2015

The Play List To-Night

An eclectic selectric:
  1. Elena Urioste, Carmen — Fantaisie Brilliante
  2. Grateful Dead, Terrapin Station Part 1
  3. Pletnev, Beethoven's 5th, 3rd & 4th movements
  4. Grateful Dead, Catfish John
  5. Jethro Tull, Thick As A Brick
That last being the greatest single work of the boomer generation.

(I may be mistaken, but I think not.)

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Acres of Clams

I’ve wandered all over this country
Prospecting and digging for gold
I’ve tunneled, hydraulicced and cradled
And I have been frequently sold.

For each man who grew rich by mining
I saw that a hundred grew poor
So I made up my mind to try farming
The only pursuit that is sure.

So rolling my grub in my blanket
I left all my tools on the ground
And started one morning to shank it
For the land that they call Puget Sound.

Arriving flat broke in midwinter
I found it enveloped in fog
And covered all over with timber
As thick as the hair on a dog.

When I looked on my prospects so gloomy
The tears trickled over my face
And I thought that my travels had brought me
To the end of the jumping-off place.

So I staked me a claim in the forest
And sat myself down to hard toil
For two years I chopped and I struggled
But I never got down to the soil.

I tried to get out of that country
But poverty forced me to stay
Until I became an old settler
Then nothing could drive me away.

And now that I'm used to the climate
I think that if a man ever found
A place to live and be happy
That Eden is on Puget Sound.

No longer the slave of ambition
I laugh at the world and its shams
As I think of my pleasant condition
Surrounded by acres of clams.
Never heard anybody sing this until I taught it myself. My lips move when I read music but eventually I puzzle it out. A couple verses here I hadn’t known before — still trying to work them in.