Unlike my generally lazy self, technology is mobile. I had therefore intended to put the wonderful world of "apps" to use by literally phoning it in. Yes, this post would be neither live nor Memorex; it would come to you via BlackBerry. You are impressed, no?
No. You shouldn't be. It didn't work. Okay, we'll move on.
With the help of quite a few cool and groovy people, including Amy Clarke Moore of Spin-off Magazine (who's probably not reading this, but hey, it was an e-mail from someone on my "personal celebrity list", so it was extra-cool and gets a plug), I have a game plan in place for the Walk Through Bethlehem Spindle Quest. The spindle will have a wooden shaft and a low-mounted, stone whorl.
I should clarify. It will have a stoneLIKE whorl. Not being a gifted mason, or even your average Joe Rockbanger, I will be fashioning the whorl from, er... Sculpey. That clay stuff. Yeah.
Well, they DO have some that LOOKS like stone. It even goes by the imagination-stirring name of Sculpey Stone. If that doesn't crank your Inventive Dial to "high", I don't know what will. So there you have it. We've reached the Castle Augh, our coconuts are at the ready, and our quest is at an end. For today, anyway. Tomorrow's a whole 'nother ball of string!
In the meantime, I have news. See, my mom has this phrase she uses for those who think they are cooler and groovier than we mere peons. "She thinks she's hot @#$% on a stick, but she ain't nothin' but a cold fart on a splinter!"
If this is the comparison for greatness, our friend S is a flaming colon on a tree branch. The coolest of the cool, and the grooviest of the groovy. Why? Because she stopped by last night with a present. An amazing present. A present that, in her words, she "thought we needed".
Tickets to see Tommy Emmanuel on October ninth.
We are pleased about this. Having been forced by economic circumstances to skip Winfield (a crushing, soul-sucking blow), we were figuring that any chance to see Tommy was as "out there" as Neptune. Remote. Unlikely.
However, all is now rainbows and kittens as we stare at and drool over the tickets and plan to have S canonized.
CRAP! I gotta make more socks by October ninth!