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Some and done

At last we Americans have become fatally competitive. I experimented with Twitter this election cycle, and while winning is sweet, grace isn’t immediately apparent. Both sides delight equally in the face planting of the other.

Trump seems to be enjoying the protracted tumble. To the casual observer though, he has tripped himself so hard that he is kicking himself in the back of the head with both heels. I suppose to Trump it’s enough that all eyes are on him.

And so the year closes. To celebrate I just bought another guitar. I’ve grown attached to the immediacy of resonating strings, even on a cheap Squire Bullet. As if to enhance this, I drug out my soldering station, headlamp, herbal tea, and 4x readers in order to replace pots, wiring, pickups, add some locking tuners, and then file and buff the fret wire to a unearthly glow.  The world passes for hospitable when the depth of field is only 8″, and I’ll take any opportunity to forget about the chaos beyond.