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Torn From the Virtual Pages of the Maine Craigslist

October 8, 2016 13 Comments

The Maine Craigslist is a hoot. It mostly features stuff for sale that the owner would be hard pressed to give away. In general, the prices look slightly higher to my eye than if the article in question was new. More than a few things look like something you’d have to pay folding money to get hauled away, so the owner is selling them instead.

Maybe Craigslist is like that everywhere. How would I know? We mostly give away things when we don’t use them anymore. It’s not because we’re wealthy. Just the opposite. Poor people, by definition, can’t be cheapskates. There’s nothing to part with, so there’s nothing to part with grudgingly.

Of course I featured the Most Maineiest Maine Thing in the Maine Craigslist already. It was a tank.I don’t need a tank, so I’m out of the running. Don’t get me wrong; I want a tank. I just don’t need a tank. But I bet someone did. There’s a butt for every seat, as they say.

This is in Craigslist today:

That’s a 1959 Rambler American. When I was little, my parents toted us around in a Rambler American station wagon, and I have a soft spot for it. I want that more than I want a tank.

There’s lots of reasons I want it. It’s only 5 grand. I don’t have five large, but it’s not IPO-type money or anything. The number hangs around in my mind in the future cardfile, not the hereafter microfiche.

I can fix that car. It doesn’t need fixing right now, but if the ballast resistor blows, I know where to look for it. You can sit right in the engine compartment and work on the engine. In the winter you can leave it running while you bang on it. That’s cozy.

It’s blissfully free of encumbering devices like seat belts. Fine with me I don’t want to linger. Most of all, I want it more than a tank because there’s more steel in a ’59 Rambler than in a tank, so it has higher scrap value in the long run.  

Not The Same

October 7, 2016 4 Comments

The Italian Secret Service. It’s what’s on the box at the Cottage.

Imagine How the World Could Be, So Very Fine

October 6, 2016 10 Comments

So, happy together.

This is rehearsal. There’s no microphone. The Spare Heir uses a form of brushes to keep the volume down. They’re like little bundles of sticks. You can’t do things like ratamacues with them very effectively. It’s not that important for rehearsal.

The Heir doesn’t use a microphone when they rehearse. I forbade a sonic arms race early on. It’s in their bones now. They play as quietly as they can. The Heir just belts it out. His guitar is amplified only enough to be heard along with the drumming. It builds up your voice to sing like that.

No one much understands the difference between practice and rehearsal. You practice to learn rudiments and new material. This is done on your own. You gather to rehearse to prepare to perform. You do not practice at rehearsal. Then you perform. You do not rehearse during a performance. My children do not practice, really. Well, I think The Heir does, but it’s always classical piano.

My kids rehearse like this to prepare for shows. All of their contemporaries can’t or won’t do the work necessary to perform in public. Other kids refuse to practice until an audience is assembled for them. One that can’t leave. Other kids can never really rehearse, because they never practice. They can’t perform properly, because they never rehearse. You can spot this species, and hear them, a mile away. They get in front of an audience of people who can’t leave, and then noodle, i.e.: practice, at flight-deck volume, in between songs that weren’t rehearsed.

Unorganized Hancock will be performing at the Fryeburg Fair on Sunday, October 9th. Three big shows, at 1PM, 2PM, and 3 PM, at the Draft Horse Park bandstand. Watch your step.

Month: October 2016

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sippicancottage

A Man Who Has Nothing In Particular To Recommend Him Discusses All Sorts of Subjects at Random as Though He Knew Everything.

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