So yesterday I spent some time listening to sitar music, specifically this collection -
It's hard to be mad or frustrated when listening to the sitar, at least for me it is.
There is far too much negativity in the world, something I find distressing at times. Both "sides" are guilty of it, after all, they want you to be outraged/angered/upset/offended along with them. Not buying it, nope, check your nonsense at the door, grab your favorite beverage, put on your favorite tunes and relax. It all ends soon enough.
Been thinking about my buddy Buck lately, gone four years ago this month. There were a couple of recent posts over at his place, one from his son Sam, another from his granddaughter Angelina. Both shared some good memories of one of my favorite people that I've met on this long journey to whatever comes after. Man, I miss that dude, a lot. But I feel it in my bones that I'll meet up with him someday, in the great whatever.
Yesterday was windy and rainy. A typical fall/winter day on the Atlantic coast in the Northeastern U.S. of A. It was also the first day of winter and the first day of my employer's winter break. I'm taking a few vacation days at the beginning of the New Year so that I will be enjoying seventeen days off. Gonna do a little traveling, gonna do a little drumming, probably do a little dining and drinking as well. Not that we don't do that every day, but when it's with folks you haven't seen in a while, it's a bit special.
I'll see the nation's capital as well, a place a lot of people don't like. I like it there, sure there are politicians and bureaucrats there but I won't be hanging out with them. I'll see the sights and be with family. It'll be a good time.
Blogging might be light, it might not be. I reserve the right to goof off over the next two weeks. No doubt I'll post more than I planned to, probably less than I'd like to. I also get to spend time with the The Nuke and my granddogs, haven't seen them in a year and I do miss them.
If I forget to mention it between now and whenever - I love doing this blogging thing, I love the folks who contribute here - whether it's a post or a comment - and heck, I even love you silent lurkers. Some folks who used to visit don't anymore, I often wonder why, I miss them.
I truly pray that you all have peace and love this holiday season. Maybe you'll find Nirvana?
Yup, if given the opportunity to pun, I take it. (Can "pun" be used as a verb?)
1. deriving ideas, style, or taste from a broad and diverse range of sources.
2. of, denoting, or belonging to a class of ancient philosophers who did not belong to or found any recognized school of thought but selected such doctrines as they wished from various schools.
noun
1. a person who derives ideas, style, or taste from a broad and diverse range of sources.
I have a rather broad range of tastes in many things, not just music, but as we've been on a bit of a musical bent as of late, I'm going to talk about my tastes in music in this post. You are invited (nay, encouraged) to share your own likes and dislikes in the comments, of course.
So lately I've been entertaining myself on YouTube by watching a bunch of kinda goofy and hysterical videos. It's truly mind-numbing entertainment, something I have needed as of late with all the PVD action occurring inside my Mk1 Mod 0 eyeballs. Takes my mind off the floaters, flashing lights, and blurred vision (in the left eye, which is improving daily, so dinna fash yersel on my behalf).
Anyhoo, whilst watching all these "gifs with sound" or "coub" as the Russians call 'em, I stumbled across a brief clip of a group of Japanese musicians playing a mix of traditional Japanese and modern Western instruments. The samisen (三味線) is an instrument which I have always loved the sound of, and here was a lady in what was apparently a rock band playing one!
The clip of this band fascinated me, I needed more, so I searched for "Japanese rock band using traditional instruments" and found this -
Captivated I was, so I called The Missus Herself into the command center, er, I mean, "man cave" and showed her the video. She found it rather entertaining, she also mentioned that the clothing and hairstyles of the band members put her in mind of anime. (I have known this lady for 42+ years, been married to her for near 41 of those years, and she never ceases to amaze me. There are depths to her that continually surprise me. In a good way mind you, a very good way.)
Now I have liked "Eastern" (as in Asian) music since The Beatles' George Harrison played the sitar on their Rubber Soul album in 1965. (The song was Norwegian Wood.) I started junior high in that year (what I guess they call "middle school" in these modern times) and had a very good teacher by the name of John Wu. As you might guess, he was of Chinese descent.
The class was social studies, back then it was a mix of history and cultural stuff, Mr. Wu brought some mad teaching skilz to the table along with an understandably "Eastern" attitude towards the class. While European culture was mixed in, we had a lot of Asian culture as well. (Which is probably why I so enjoyed my time in Japan and Korea.)
One of the activities we did with Mr. Wu was to eat an Indian meal (prepared by the home economics class, remember those?) and listen to real Indian music. I seem to recall it was a Ravi Shankar album (I also seem to recall he's the chap who taught Harrison how to play) the timing was perfect. There was my favorite band using the sitar and I'm kicked back in the Home Econ room dining on curry, nan bread, rice, and listening to Indian music. Sweet.
Sitar music always puts me in mind of the hot, dusty plains of India, the countryside holding its breath as man and beast await the start of the monsoon. Also puts me in mind of the lofty peaks of the Himalayas. Elephants, tigers, and cobras. Oh my!
Now the sitar has about a billion strings, (actually not that many but it has way more than a six-string guitar, the instrument I was most familiar with at the time) and produces a sound which I find very relaxing and soothing. Of course, I wanted one, and of course my parents demurred on that, "But we just got you a guitar! Learn how to play that first!" Well, they did have a point, and just where on Earth could one find a sitar in Vermont in 1965? It wasn't like you could trot on down to the local music emporium and pick one up. Nope, probably had to go to India or something for that!
At any rate, so began my eclectic tastes in both music and food. While I can still do burgers and fries and rock and roll with the best of 'em, there are days I just have to chow down on kimchi and rice and listen to some old timey Asian music, like this -
That instrument is the kayagum (가야금), a traditional Korean stringed instrument. I had an entire album of kayagum music when we lived in Korea, The Missus Herself thought I was out of my mind, my mother-in-law liked it, so that scored me some points. I found it a winning proposition to always stay on my mother-in-law's good side. Advice I'd give to anyone looking to get married, win the mother-in-law, you've won the war.
Dang, but I miss that sweet little lady. She's been gone 19 years. I can still hear her laughing, shaking her head, and calling me "미친 사람" - crazy person. She knew me well, as does her daughter.
I'm a lucky guy. A little crazy and rather eclectic. A good thing, I think. I hope...
In this holiday Christmas season, consisting of Advent and the Twelve Days of, we focus so much on Christ and the wonderful and not so wonderful events that led up to His birth and the days after. But we would be nowhere without his mother, Mary. The Blessed Virgin herself.
And one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever, written by Franz Schubert, is about her.
AVE MARIA
Ave Maria, Gratia plena Maria, Gratia plena Maria, Gratia plena Ave, Ave Dominus Dominus tecum Benedicta tu in mulieribus Et benedictu Et benedictus frutcus ventris, ventris tu Jesus
Ave Maria
Ave Maria, mater Dei Ora pro nobis peccatoribus Ora, ora pro nobis Ora, ora pro nobis peccatoribus Nunc, et in hora mortis In hora mortis nostrae In hora mortis, mortis nostrae In hora mortis nostrae Ave Maria Amen
(translation)(which is just a jazzed up version of the prayer, ‘Hail Mary’)
Hail Mary, Full of Grace Mary, Full of Grace Mary, Full of Grace Hail, Hail to the Lord The Lord is with you Blessed art thou among women And blessed fruit of the womb, the womb of Jesus Hail Mary Hail Mary, Mother of God Pray for us sinners Pray, pray for us Pray, pray for us sinners Now, and in the hour of death In the hour of our death In the hour of death, our death In the hour of our death Hail Mary Amen
(thanks to translate.yandex.com for the very quick and intuitive translation program for Latin to English. I tried to find a good translation and was out of luck, then tried lots of translators and only Yandex gave me good results.)
One of my favorite audio versions is sung by Karen Carpenter, but just about any more-than-competent singer, following the lyrics and melody written by Franz et al, will bring me to tears and have me running to go hug Mrs. Andrew and clamp onto her like a limpet on his favorite rock at low tide.
Karen Carpenter singing 'Ave Maria' Such a beautiful voice, such a tragic loss Those who pestered her have much to answer for
Why get so all schmaltzy over a beautiful song?
Well, back in 1984 there was this girl I knew, we met in college, who saved me from a really bad relationship (really bad, Lifetime Movie of the Week bad, trust me, BAD) and she did it because she liked me (and I later found out was in love with me) and, well, I fell in love with her without knowing she was in love with me and, aw, Beans, you went all Hallmark movie on us...
So, in 1985, she moved to Gainesville, FL and got a house, and I went with her to rent a room and try to go to UF and get a degree and, well… I never moved into the room I was going to rent. Oops. Living in sin I was, but only because I knew I would marry her someday. The impediment? Her. She was ‘all girlfriend but nothing further’ and I accepted, because that was the only way I could be around her. Sigh…
Somewhere in the summer of 1985 I asked her to marry me. She turned me down, nicely, sweetly, but Hard. So I asked her again, and got shot down again. And again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again… Finally, like water against rock, I wore her down. And she opened up and She didn’t think she was good enough for me. Me? Mr. All Flaws and Sharp Edges, and she didn’t think she was good enough for me? Here I am, thinking I am, no, KNOWING I am loving someone way above me, way smarter and better and more human and sweeter and nicer and and and and, and it turns out she doesn’t think she’s the worthy one?
OH. NO. SHE. DIDN’T. Nice try, lady. I was (and am still) not worthy to be with you, so get over yourself. So, well, eventually she wore completely down and finally said “Yes” around November of 1985 and we talked about getting married in the spring of 1987. My parents were like, “Oh, what took you so long” when I finally told them (I had been nervous puking for a few days before, a wonderful affliction I inherited from my father, who managed to puke on my mother’s hand, himself, the restaurant, and from what he said, about half the county when he proposed to my mother.)
Her parents? They thought she could do much better than me. Like stay at home and take care of them was their plan. Have I ever told you that I hate my in-laws? Oh, the hatred of Belgians living on the German border in 1944 (obligatory Battle of the Bulge reference) is maybe 1/100th the hatred of what I felt and still feel for her side of the family. Still dream of digging up her father and chopping his head off just to make sure… (I was bitterly disappointed with the Catholic Church at large when my FIL did not catch fire when he stepped into the church on our wedding day. Yes, Crisis of Faith, man, Crisis of Faith.)
Then my mother derailed us. We would have to pay to ship Grandmother Cone from California for the wedding. We were paying for everything out of our own pocket, so air-freighting GC would have broken us. Instead, since she paid her own way to Florida for the Christmas season, which for her started the week before the Army-Navy Game (Go Navy! Lt. Gordon Cone, Annapolis class of ’29) and ending after Epiphany, that set the window of opportunity. The business I was working at shut down Dec 24 and opened up Jan 2, so that narrowed it even more. And we wanted to get married down at Holy Name of Jesus Catholic Church in Indialantic, FL, and they only had one open day in December, so… The day was set.
All the hoops were in place. Time to start jumping through them.
First, get the local priest to smear holy oil on the Jewish girl and proclaim her Catholic, which entailed a whole conversion process which was very simple and tedious, in comparison to the whole conversion process she went through to become Jewish in the first place. I still have fond memories of the priest who was running her to-Catholic conversion backing into the corner as she kept asking hard questions about Catholicism and the Conversion Process until he finally broke and got the monsignor involved and He said, after being questioned as to why once she accepted the Word of God and Jesus as her Lord and Savior why she had to wait until Easter to be confirmed because according to the Scriptures and Church Teachings, once you accepted TWOG and JAYLAS then if you die before being officially confirmed you will exist in a state of Limbo rather than Grace and He (the monsignor) said, “How about Sunday?” and she got smeared and ‘Poof,’ she was a Catholic…
Then there was the interview by our local parish priest as to the validity of our wish to be married. Then the interview by the parish priest and a senior nun down at Holy Name of Jesus (totally different dioceses from our local parish/dioceses)(parish being the individual church run by a priest or monsignor, dioceses being an administrative area composed of many parishes and overall run by a bishop.)(stop here if you’re Anglican or Episcopal, continue on with cardinals and the Pope if you’re Roman Catholic.)
Then we had to attend a Pre Cana class, which is a Catholic course for those preparing to be married in the Catholic Church, where we learned fascinating things like how to tell if Myrtle is Fertile by the elasticity of some mucus from somewhere (no, really) and this was taught by some lady with 12 children, so, well, I guess it worked for her. And other fascinating and completely thought provoking and world changing things that were so special I can’t remember any of them. Except for that whole mucus-rubber band thingy. Stuck like glue in our minds it did, and we still talk about it once in a while. A mere stretching of two fingers can cause chortling at the most inappropriate times.
And… well, have I told you how much I hate my in-laws? That whole bride’s family supports the bride thingy? Well, the jerks really wanted Mrs. Andrew stay at home and take care of them. Really. Juvat, have I told you how much I respect you for doing right by your daughter for her wedding? You and your wife are what parents should be. Her parents? Not so much. No help at all.
So my mother stepped in. Mom Andrew finally got to do the whole ‘mother-daughter’ thing and got so totally involved that we had to sit her down and reel her back and reset all of the arrangements she made because we already made them so Mom Andrew made The Dress and…
We really lucked out. Really. Mom’s church group did the cooking for the reception at my parent’s house (not a formal dine-in, more an informal party. We cleaned the house and one of Mrs. Andrew’s friends did the cake and the church group cooked the food (one of the food choices, cocktail sausages heated in apple butter is still one of our favorites) and my Dad provided a bar for the drinkers, and we made plans to honeymoon ‘away’ from the wedding night to Christmas Eve.
The actual church was an easy thing. Already decorated for the season, the whole back wall of the church was lined with trees with white lights so no need for us to do anything.
Our wedding ‘song’ was/is Franz Shubert’s “Ave Maria” which the music director didn’t approve of but he got over it. Why would a beautiful, Christian piece of music be a problem in a church? Dunno, but as I said, he got over it. Mrs. Andrew can be quite persuasive when she wants to be.
Well, long story short, comes December 20th, 1986, I married my best friend and someone who still is far better than me. And through sickness and health, richer, poorer, good times and bad, we are still giddily in love with each other and laugh and cry and fight and talk and we’re together still, till way after death do us part.
Maybe She was looking over us and helping. I always thought and think so.
So, thank you, Holy Mother, for everything you’ve done.
Ave! And Amen!
For Scott the Badger, because he has me listening to Celtic Women again
Ah, darned, I'm crying again.
And that blonde reminds me of Mrs. Andrew when we met, except more Karen Carpenter's face and voice.
So, as many of you are no doubt aware, I've had some problems over the past couple of months with my Mk1 Mod 0 eyeballs, both Mount 21 (left eye) and Mount 22 (right eye). Had the left one operated on back in October, it is healing, slowly (to my frustration), but it's healing. Seems that the vitreous humor (the jelly-like substance that fills most of your eye) will shrink over time, pulling away from the retina at the back of the eye. This is called a PVD, which is indeed the three letter airport code for T.F. Green airport, our local air patch here in Little Rhody, but which in this case stands for Posterior Vitreous Detachment.
This happened in Mount 21 earlier this year, but apparently the guy responsible for ensuring that all lines were clear when the vitreous boat pulled away from the retinal pier (to go all nautical on you) wasn't paying attention and the vitreous humor pulled some retina with it, causing minor damage to my retina, which required surgery.
Seaman Schmuckatelli was counselled and received extra training in the event we wanted to go through a PVD-type evolution on Mount 22 (remember, that's the right eye.) So a couple of weeks ago...
What's that? What's with all the gunsight pictures? I'll get to that, be patient.
So anyhoo, a couple of weeks ago, BAM, PVD occurred on the right eye, er, I mean, Mount 22. Which caused a circular shaped floater to appear in my field of vision which immediately reminded me of the F-4D's gunsight. Shown above by itself, and again below where the pilot sees it projected onto the combining glass which is part of the front radar scope mount. Provided said pilot is not wearing polarized sunglasses (for a very humorous take on that event, see here. We'll wait...).
No, the pilot involved was not Juvat, I asked. (Besides Juvat was a junior officer at the time and the lofty personage wearing the sunglasses was, I believe, a major.)
I visited the chap who operated on my left eye back in October on Tuesday, yesterday as you read this, this morning as I type this. (Time travel can be confusing, neh?) He gave me a clean bill of health as there was no retinal involvement. Schmuckatelli's extra training paid off and all lines were clear when the vitreous boat left the retinal pier on this occasion.
But during the exam, I heard the doctor telling his assistant, fellow named Brian, that, "The Weiss Ring is very clear in the scope..." Blah, blah, blah, more retinal doctor talk. But I keyed in on the whole "Weiss Ring" thing. You can see it in the image below. That sort of New England Patriots collapsed football looking thing on the left side of the picture. That's called a Weiss Ring. Apparently not named for some fellow named Weiss, rather simply named "white" as in the color, which in German is, "Weiss." More properly Weiß, though I understand that the Germans are moving away from using the Eszett or scharfes S, which is what that ß character is, these days a simple double "s" is used instead. I don't like it, I'm a bit of a traditionalist but that's weder hier noch dort (neither here nor there).
Eventually the folks at work got tired of telling me that there was no one named Sarah Connor at the facility where I am somewhat gainfully employed. Even though it was a lot of fun.
Also the guards in the front of the building got tired of me attempting to drive into the lobby.
So, we’ve been regaled about Christmas SONGS and a few Christmas Carols, but mostly Songs. Wait, what’s the difference? Christmas songs are secular songs about Christmas. “White Christmas” and “Blue Christmas” are Christmas songs. Songs that are rather heartfelt but not religious-religious, though sung properly, by Bing Crosby and Elvis Presley respectively, are as introspective and, well, religious as you can get without being religious-religious. "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" is a song, about carols, but still a song. "Jingle Bells" and "Winter Wonderland" are also Songs, not Carols. Still great and wonderful, full of emotion and power, but... not a Carol, or Amber, or Cynthia... (BEANS!!!! Not Christmas, NOT Christmas...)
There is a another type of song during this Christmas season, but they aren't Christmas songs. Though the idiots who run radio stations and cable music stations seem to think so. That horrible "Hallelujah" song that has nothing to do with religion, or Christ, or Christmas. Hate that song, once I found out what the lyrics said. "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is another, not a Christmas song, and, yes, I've seen the movie and enjoyed the way skeevy Ricardo Montalban tries to use it on his girl and Red Skelton gets it used against him by his girl. But NOT a Christmas song or carol or anything about Christmas. Winter songs are also not Christmas songs or carols. Just because it's a song about freezing to death with your family or main squeeze doesn't make it classify as a CS or CC. Gotta have actual Christmastime references to make it a Song, and must reference Christ to be a Carol.
Carols, on the other hand, in my book, in my mind, are religious-religious. They deal with “The Reason for the Season” and speak about religious matters. "Coventry Carol," "Silent Night" and my favorite, "O Holy Night," which, when you hit the 'Fall on your knees, oh hear the angel voices." just makes me tear up and, well, fall on my knees, because it is so pretty and powerful and touches me right at that religious spot that almost led me to going to seminary or a monastery. They invoke the power and majesty of the season. "Away in a Manger," carol. Handel's actual "Hallelujah Chorus" (though maybe a stretch, but still, yeah, carolistic, though most carolers can't carol it.) and tons of others that no-one ever hears on the radio because "Santa Baby" screeched by some dingbat is taking up valuable air-time (and I barely classify SB as a Christmas Song, barely. Hate it, but we're talking about Carols so …) "Little Drummer Boy" can be either a Song or a Carol, modernish but okay, a carol (it is not just a holiday version of "Bang Your Drum.")
"Ave Maria" is, well, a carol to me. Also my wedding song, which cheesed the music director at my church when Mrs. Andrew and I told him. Definitely a carol. And Shubert's version is just darned glorious. (Hmmm, maybe there's a bit of a Marian in me, which is also part of the Season.) (Marian being a follower of Mary, not a follower of the cute farm girl from "Gilligan's Island.")
By the way, "Oh Christmas Tree" is often sanitized and turned into a Christmas Song. But it, in it's full version, is most decidedly a Christmas Carol. From the Third verse...
Let us all remember
In our gift giving and our merriment
With our family and friends and loved ones
The real and true meaning of Christmas
The birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ
See? Do you remember learning those lyrics in school to "Christmas Tree" or did they, those godless socialists, keep that away from you, too? (BEANS!!!!! No Politics, it's Christmas!!!!) Of course, that's the English version, translated (maybe badly) from the original German. And sung in the original it is very haunting and beautiful, a great example of the message getting across no matter what language is used.
Now that we have that over and done with, there's lots of Christmas Carols out there. We all know them, the really good and common (as in known) ones. But there's one I have always liked, since I first heard it. And learned to sing it, well, at least the background part, not the part the prima donnas always take over and refuse to let anyone else sing.
That would be "Gaudete." No one really knows where it came from, though the medieval Latin lyrics point to it being, well, medieval. The music may have been written in the 16th Century, but that's only based on it being published in a Finnish (yes, Finnish, oh, those tricky Finns) or Swedish book of Finnish and Swedish sacred music in 1581. Like a lot of Church (big "C" there, notice?) music, the song may have existed in a monophonic form before being attached to a 'more' modern structure.
Yes, of course, Steeleye Span, Sarah Brightman and Charlotte Church have all made recordings of this beautiful song. But most people really don't know about it.
Gaudete
Gaudete, Gaudete!
Christus et natus
Ex maria virgine,
Gaudete!
Rejoice, Rejoice!
Christ is born
Of the virgin Mary,
Rejoice!
Tempus ad est gratiae,
Hoc quod optabamus;
Carmina laetitiae,
Devote redamus. (Gaudete...)
It is now the time of grace
That we have desired;
Let us sing songs of joy,
Let us give devotion.
Deus homo factus est,
Natura mirante;
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante. (Gaudete....)
God was made man,
And nature marvels;
The world was renewed
By Christ who is King.
Ezechiellis porta
Clausa pertransitur;
Unde lux est orta
Salus invenitur. (Gaudete....)
The closed gate of Ezechiel
Has been passed through;
From where the light rises
Salvation is found.
Ergo nostra cantio,
Psallat iam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro. (Gaudete, and then another round of Gaudete!)
Therefore let our assembly now sing,
Sing the Psalms to purify us;
Let it praise the Lord:
Greetings to our King.
See? Really nice. Here it is, 'live.'
Pretty, and one of my favorites. I love the power of the Gaudete lines, I really do. Love singing them when out just because they're pretty, and powerful. Though... I need to go learn the non-Gaudete, Gaudete lines... So I can sing the whole thing. Maybe work on my falsetto for the non-Gaudete lines... Channel my inner Frankie Valle... (Do I use "..." to much or is it okay?...)
On a weird note, and not a carol, actually a lullaby, but I've heard people call it a carol but well, not a carol, but it's something, I can also sing the Welsh lyrics to "Ar Hyd y Nos" or "All through the Night" for you English pikers. And, according to a Welsh friend, my accent is rather good, for a bloody Norman...
So, not a Christmas Song or Carol, but still beautiful in either Welsh or English. And beauty is kinda religious, isn't it?
So... What are your favorite Christmas Carols? Not songs, not winter pieces. Carols. Religious Songs of Christmastime, and maybe why? Do you like singing them or just listening to them?
"Rejoice in the Lord, always. I say again, rejoice!" Nah, not going to be a "preachy" missive this morning. More of a status update.
Status, as in, this is the last Monday as a working stiff. As in, next Sunday night, I turn off all my daily alarms (except the Sunday one of course) and wake up whenever I wake up. Woo-Hoo! The new boss has settled in and seems to be doing ok. Had her baptism of fire on Wednesday. I walked in the office about 7:20 with the phone ringing. Never, ever, a good sign. Turns out it was the Principal from our outlying Elementary school calling from her cell phone. Seems there was no network or phone connections at the school. Well, Bummer Dude! I took a look at it from our side and couldn't see any devices at that campus either. Called up our network connectivity guy and pointed him that way to see what there is to see. Then called the new boss to keep her apprised. About a half hour later, I get a call from our guy saying he can't find anything wrong, but, bigger than Dallas, there's no connectivity. I update the boss and recommend getting our contracted support on it. (This is a guy that used to work for us, but now charges an arm and a leg to do the same work. I know, Beans, I know....) In any case, he's out there about an hour later and is on the phone with our internet provider who can't find any problem with their equipment either. Just no connectivity. Meanwhile, the murmuring is getting louder.
The natives are getting restless, because, you see, "We can't teach without the internet". Personally, I think the first three words are the truth, the rest of the statement is an excuse.
In any case, there is much rumbling about the Tech Department this and Tech that. Blah, Blah, Fricking Blah! So, the new boss is at Central Office discussing the issue with her new boss when the Asst Sup for Business and Finance calls in on her cell. (She's on the road to College Station to watch her son graduate.) She casually mentions that it might be a problem with the bill. Seems we haven't paid it in a few months due to a disagreement on the amount. YGBSM! My new Boss let's loose with a volley that would have put the New Jersey to shame. The bill was paid very (very, very) shortly thereafter and, magically delicious, connectivity was restored.
So, I think things are going to be alright. My guys will have some top cover. I'll step out the door on Friday, occasionally have lunch with the guys to answer some questions, clean out and organize my workshop and restart my highly evolved process for turning fine exotic wood into sawdust. Rejoice in the Lord, always. I say again, Rejoice! Oh, and .....
