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Post by millring on Apr 24, 2024 14:45:11 GMT -5
I stopped at home Depot for fencing. Sabre, foil, or epee?
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 16:55:59 GMT -5
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 16:37:36 GMT -5
Terry, I tore most of the left side of my jeep half off when I ran into a pile of dirt last winter. Imma bring it up to you for some body work.
Thanks,
John
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 16:35:37 GMT -5
Shakespeare looks kind of like Howard. Sure. Maybe. If Shakespeare had been handsome.
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 16:33:57 GMT -5
In my banjo playing days we did that. In the first iteration -- Acoustic Guitar Magazine's "Guitar Talk" forum -- of what finally became the Soundhole many of us had a friend that went by the moniker "Twinsfan". His name is Jim Emery and he's a very good songwriter from the Twin Cities area. Me, LJ, Matt Fox and a couple of others were sitting around talking music (as we always did) when Jim told us of having dreamed a tune. When he woke in the middle of the night up he hurried to get it down in some manner so he wouldn't forget it (dreams can be very fleeting). When he finally really got up the next morning he realized that he had written Blackberry Blossom.
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 16:28:37 GMT -5
Do you see it? I didn't at first either. The photo is cropped from a much larger whole - not by means of photo processing, but because there was no way to get far enough from the scene to take in the whole of it with the camera lens. At least, not without a panorama, wide angle lens. But I also missed the obvious . Several times. How often my expectations cause me to not see what I'm looking at. I drive by this home every Thursday. And yet it wasn't until this past week that I finally saw what I'd been missing. LOVE. It's right there. Right there in the very middle of it. At the very heart of it. LOVE. I'm thinking it's a perfect picture of it. I fear that I've so often thought that love was something that happened when everything got perfect. When the circumstances and the environment and brain chemistry and....and. I fear I've believed that when my universe was in order, it was THEN that I would see love. But it's not like that, is it? Love is a mess. Love is not a picture postcard perfect scene. Love is the only thing that makes sense of the chaos of my real life existence. I'm terrible at it. I've always been terrible at it. Upon seeing the commandments -- the Law -- simplified to "love your neighbor", I got the message right away. It wasn't letting me off the hook. It was hanging me from an even higher one. I realized that love's not EASIER than a code of ethics. It is immeasurably HARDER than a code of ethics. It is the code of ethics AND. Not the code of ethics OR. It says that I am supposed to do -- and eventually mean it. That sucks. I wish it were a feeling, and that in being so, I only had to act the way I felt. But it's not. It's a responsibility. And a hard -- maybe impossible -- one. So, it's a hard thing. But it's a beautiful thing. It really is the only thing that makes the mess of life worth trudging through. At least, I think it is. I still couldn't live in a house like the one in the picture. As perfect a picture of love as it might be, I still need a little order. But I got the message.
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 15:12:26 GMT -5
I too failed at wordle. Because I use the same starting word every day I often get e and r. Childishly, it kinda pisses me off 'cause it's not a lot to go on. "er" can start or end a word, be in the middle, or not even be connected. So, in an experiment to see if I increase my odds of winning more quickly, I've decided when I get "er", I'll sacrifice the next word in order to score more information. Though it seems counter intuitive to do so, I think it increases the odds ... but I could be wrong. And today I certainly was because my second word (with no "er" in it) score zero new letters. Wow. So now I really had wasted a guess...and the word was one with too many possibilities.
All day rain made the route less than fun, but I got through and I'm already home. Been working on a project and with Dar off at dog training and the house to myself I may put some time in on it.
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 5:22:08 GMT -5
Mondays insure me some overtime. For some reason Amazon doesn't ship Claypool's pallets on Sunday. So, while the other 17 rural routes in the office get their Amazon delivered on Sunday, I get two days worth on Monday. I actually enjoy the second trips it requires (I can't fit two days worth of Amazon in my Jeep). It's a relaxing drive through the country. Yesterday it was 41 miles with only 15 stops.
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 5:17:00 GMT -5
I work with a Mexican, three Puerto Ricans, and a lesbian. What do I win in the diversity stakes?
I hope it's a new car.
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Post by millring on Apr 23, 2024 5:15:10 GMT -5
That is one of best albums ever made. +1
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Post by millring on Apr 22, 2024 18:57:03 GMT -5
It sounds crazy, but when I fell in love with Tony Rice's music, it honestly didn't occur to me that it was bluegrass. The first album I bought was church street blues. And the bluegrass I did associate with him was completely different from what came before as much because his wonderful voice was decidedly NOT bluegrass and his guitar so novel it barely echoed anything that came before.
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Post by millring on Apr 22, 2024 17:33:50 GMT -5
Love playing the descending G scale in Friend of the Devil. That song outlasts 90% of songs of that era. A standby in all my sets for farmers markets to senior centers. I know any number of players who pair it with blackberry blossom.
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Post by millring on Apr 22, 2024 17:32:41 GMT -5
Playing a 1st position G chord replacing the treble 3rd with a 5th began, as I recall, in the late ‘70s. First generation players like Lester Flatt, Carter Stanley, et al., mostly played the B string open. They usually weren’t striking the B string hard enough to notice the difference. I thought the same thing. I got in the habit of fretting it, but I really thought that that was a pretty modern (70s on) convention.
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Post by millring on Apr 21, 2024 15:38:27 GMT -5
My artist friend has posted this on facebook. A professor at a major Florida University has responded positively to it (liked it). When did we gain the ability to turn Mars into Earth? Unless this is some sort of satire and I'm not getting it, this strikes me as only slightly more insane than flat eartherism (and I can only hope, just as rare).
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Post by millring on Apr 21, 2024 9:46:43 GMT -5
Todd was a kid from my side of town and, had I not gone to private school, would have been my classmate.... ....but that's not the story. Didn't we all grow up with a “best friend”? Mine was a friend from the 4th grade, all the way up until we went our separate ways to different colleges. Anyway, while in high school my friend, Greg, topped the city scoring charts (basketball) both our junior and senior years. But we didn't play any of the public school competition. So, though Greg's name almost always topped the list of the top scorers in the city every Sunday in the sports section of the Indianapolis Star, it was as though there was this annoying "asterisk" applied to it. His place as scoring champion was made illegitimate by the apples-to-oranges of our competition -- Greg being the "apples" to Todd's "oranges". See, Todd sometimes traded places with Greg at the top of the scoring list. The summer between our Junior and Senior years, Greg and I got wind of a regular game at the high school Todd attended -- at that time in the 1970s it was the biggest high school in Indiana. One muggy Saturday morning we made our way over to the high school gym to check it out. Back then they didn't air condition the schools in the summer -- certainly not the gyms. So the gym was as hot as the outdoors when we entered (its double doors were wide open in a vain attempt to ventilate the stale gym air), but I felt the chill of excitement....and dread. I was always a good playground player -- great with the guys I knew, but I choked when it came time to prove myself before strangers. My friend obviously didn't suffer the same affliction. After a long wait through "winner-keeps-the-court" games, we were finally able to put together a team of five to take to the court and challenge the current winners. I was, as I anticipated, my usual cautious self and played utterly unremarkably -- just trying not to embarrass myself. But Greg led our team to a VERY unexpected victory. Suddenly the gym was abuzz with, "Who IS that guy?". As it had taken so long to actually get into the game, by the time we finished our game, most of the rest of the group was breaking up to call it a day.... ...until Greg and I were stopped in our tracks near the exit. "Hey, ______! (my friend's last name) One on one?!" The fellow who shouted the challenge across the emptying gym was Todd, who by then had finally realized that the gym ringer that day was the very same guy against whom he'd competed for city top scoring honors throughout the past year. Apples and oranges......same crate. Suddenly the mass exit of kids halted and every last kid returned to the gym and stood riveted to the sidelines, entranced by the competition. By then the whispers had made their way 'round the gym and everyone in attendance knew the stakes. Greg was not exactly your typical jock type. He was an acne-faced homely kid with a vertical jump that made it appear as though he was trying to break the gravitational bonds of Jupiter. His shoulders were merely the narrowest of detours between a pin-head, a long skinny neck, and a surprisingly wide-assed stance. It gave him a sorta "Baby Huey" look. He sported a buzz-cut head at a time (remember the early 70's?) when hair couldn't have been more of a statement of "cool". To top that off, Greg was even known to wear black socks in his Chuck Taylors. That was DEFINITELY not cool back then. Never has been on a lily-white Caucasian. The assembled crowd's snickering derision about his awkward looks was not lost on Greg. It never was. Though I knew that deep down inside it hurt him, he outwardly seemed to revel in the reaction his backwards appearance invited. He did, in some manner, seem to be able to turn the other kid's ridicule to his advantage. Todd, on the other hand, was the son of the coach of that high school -- he was the well dressed, well connected, country club, cheerleader-for-a-girlfriend type. What Greg did have was brains (he was our class valedictorian), very quick hands, and the ability to psych his opponent better than anyone I've ever played with. And he could shoot the lights out. Hoosier kids don't play "make it take it". We play one-on-one the hard way -- even taking the ball back to the free-throw line between possessions. And I gotta tell you, that was one hard-fought contest. To his credit, Greg remained ice. Todd was getting hot -- he had SO much more to lose.....AND.....he was in front of his "home crowd". It took a few "overtimes" (Hoosier's also play by the God-given rule that real men win by (at least) two points). Greg beat Todd. And that day Greg walked out of that gym, asterisk settled in his mind. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Todd_Lickliter?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR0r1S77C0TwcVnTsgnxpaeDOAm6Rrk_DsPD6tKHPCTEikncKIUMFpFKfKs_aem_AZ-paXBgTV2oDYf64Y26LhqmYj0s4I4GysoDsYxOs2iD0mMv_iU_XgsGJN66BnYl-fekfLKPhJdfXvgAX9-kP-yV
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Post by millring on Apr 21, 2024 7:32:59 GMT -5
The scarcity of reason, the relentlessness of time Is part of some equation way beyond my feeble mind I have an optimistic nature, but I also love the blues I'm looking forward to the day I'm not afraid to watch the news
But until then I keep sailing Let the water and the wind show the best of what this world can be Take your time to find your passion Life goes on until it ends, don't stop living until then
When to fight and when to swallow When to listen, when to talk These are lines that we're still learning how to read and how to walk And the marketers of freedom and the profiteers of doom The last 6000 years they say the end is coming soon
But until then I keep smiling Let my family and friends show the best of what this world can be Take your time and find your passion Life goes on until it ends, don't stop living until then
Excuse me while I wish upon a star See how much alive we really are
Until then Take your time, find your passion Life goes on until it ends, don't stop living until then Until then
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Post by millring on Apr 20, 2024 5:54:27 GMT -5
I guess it's not surprising that Pharell Williams would not find it repetitive.
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Post by millring on Apr 20, 2024 5:54:16 GMT -5
I guess it's not surprising that Pharell Williams would not find it repetitive.
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Post by millring on Apr 20, 2024 5:54:05 GMT -5
I guess it's not surprising that Pharell Williams would not find it repetitive.
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Post by millring on Apr 20, 2024 5:53:52 GMT -5
I guess it's not surprising that Pharell Williams would not find it repetitive.
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