Stuff-mo-tron

Tue, 30 Jan 2007

Researching things on the Internet is making me crazy. Consumer Reports (which I've long subscribed to online) will only show used car information back 10 years (to 1997). They won't even publish their road tests of older cars, which would be incredibly useful to me. So, I'm left to research based on much more... variable, I guess, data sources.

The chief vexation is coming from the "user reviews." Of course, the only people who write them are pissed off that their car just broke for the 10th time. But when I see 326 pages of reviews (and 90% of them are of the "arg, the transmission fell out again" variety), it gets depressing fast.

Add onto this that I have this weird set of conflicting priorities, and things get messy fast. For instance, I want a vehicle which:

Problem is, there is no vehicle which meets all those requirements, period, the end. If there is, no one's let me in on the secret.

Little truck? Can't carry people at all. Cheap and reliable cancel each other out.

Minivan? Apparently it's impossible to buy a minivan for under $4500 which isn't a horrible pile of scrap. I'd live without the dirt-hauling capability, but still, they're either $6000 and up, or prone to the transmission falling out (why can't anyone figure out transmissions?). Against all odds, something like a Chevy Astro (which is otherwise about right) has the worst crash test results in the world.

Full sized van? Neither cheap nor fuel efficient, and not necessarily all that reliable. Probably not all that safe either, but then I'd have mass on my side.

Station wagon? Not all that capacious for either cargo or people, although something like a Corolla Wagon hits cheap, reliable and efficient pretty well. So I'd still have to rent a big truck (or get a trailer) for moving anything bigger than boxes, which kind of negates the benefits.

Another key part of this whole thing is that it changes by the minute. For instance, between when I wrote that last paragraph and started this one (about 10 minutes), I've come around to the idea of getting a small station wagon with a trailer hitch, and just renting a lightweight trailer from Uhaul when it comes time to move the sofa or any other big things. It's very confusing.

So, the short version is, "I don't know." You've seen the long version above. Rest assured that whatever I do, I'll doubtless report it here.

Sun, 28 Jan 2007

If you've been following along, you'll have at least some idea that I'm looking around for a truck or something. I'm headed back into the 4-wheeled world, at least for a while.

Anyway, my search for a truck has been difficult, at best. I found one that looked really promising, but an inspection revealed that it needed $400 minimum in work, with $900 in recommended work (timing belt and associated stuff). It also had a leaking rear main seal, which would have been another $900+ job in 0-10,000 miles. Not the best deal in a $3000 truck.

I looked at a few others, but none of them really stood out as being worthy. Finally, this weekend, I came around to the idea of a minivan instead of a truck.

It was much as described, although "always taken care of" may be stretching it a little bit: the air conditioning didn't work, and the airbag light had been covered over with a piece of black electrical tape. It was flashing a code 41, which apparently means "PRIMARY CRASH SENSOR CIRCUITS HIGH RESISTANCE OR OPEN." Presumably grandpa didn't feel like shelling out the big bucks to have the airbag fixed, so he just covered the light.

It was heavier than I was expecting, although that makes sense: the Aerostar was built on a truck frame. Of course, that also means it's got a 4400 pound towing capacity, which might come in handy. It's certainly got plenty of room, being literally a scaled-down full-size van.

Other than the AC and airbag fault, there didn't seem to be much wrong with it. The engine block had a bit of oil on it, but nothing extreme, and not bad for a 23 year old car. Overall, I came away from it feeling it was a "not bad" choice. Of course, coupled with a price of $1900 (more than a thousand dollars cheaper than the roughly-equivalent Toyota truck I looked at before), "not bad" starts to look "pretty good."

Factor in things like the fact that insurance may be less (lower market value), and gas mileage will be about comparable, and it sounds even better. Of course, it's still a big fat gas guzzler, and I'm not excited about that, but it sounds a lot better than renting a truck every time I'm going to need one.

Wed, 24 Jan 2007

Of course, it's 47° out there right now, so my prediction of the warmest winter ever is coming true. Hooray for irony!

Mon, 22 Jan 2007

So, I finally finished up the review of the Electric GPR that I started a year ago, and then promptly forgot about. Sheesh.

Sun, 21 Jan 2007

What with a bunch of upcoming craziness, which will include me having to shut down my server for a while, I decided to try the hosted life for a bit. I started small, and got dangerpants.com (my "art and stuff" domain) set up. Worked well. Speedy.

Getting obairlann.net working (the site you're looking at now), was a bit more daunting. I finally figured out all the wrinkles, and it's now hosted as well. Well, it will be by the end of tomorrow, anyway. Propagating that kind of information can take a day or two.

So, as you read this, you should be noticing that it's not all as slow as it used to be. In fact, if you've got a fast connection to the Internet, you should see really fast performance. Oh glorious bandwidth!

If you see anything odd, let me know. The scanner stream changes a little bit, but should still work. Unfortunately, it's still one listener at a time, since my hosting provider doesn't have any way to restream an MP3 stream.

Sat, 20 Jan 2007

Ghirardelli Square

Over Christmas, I was in the Bay Area, and we made a day-trip into San Francisco. One of the places we visited was Ghirardelli Square. Of course, at Ghirardelli Square, one of the shops is a Ghirardelli shop, where you can buy any manner of chocolate.

As we walked into the shop, an employee indicated a tray of free samples she was holding. "Would you like to try a Murfle Bleegee Bam?" I don't remember what it was, some kind of new chocolate they were pimping, in little packages that reminded me of the mints they put on hotel pillows. I debated for a moment, and decided in favor of wild and crazy. I thanked her, and picked one up.

I found the seam on the package, and pulled it up to rip open the top and release the petit morseau inside. Something seemed odd, and the package felt lighter than it should. I took a closer look.

They'd already opened each package, cutting one end clean off. I had chosen the closed end, and tried to open it, inadvertently and silently letting the little square of chocolate drop to the ground. I had that sinking "Oh great," feeling, and picked up the dead chocolate, tossing it in the garbage.

My brother had looked on to this miniature drama, and said, "They'll probably give you another one." I shook my head, and said, "No, it's fine."

Tue, 16 Jan 2007

So, the extended craziness with the snow and the ice and the FREEZING! and glaven... (Think Jerry Lewis as channeled by Professor Frink.) I'm getting fed up with it. That's right, I'm getting snow tires for my bicycle.

Crazy? Maybe. Crazy like a fox! At least I won't feel so trapped in the snow and/or ice. The sidecar rig is fine and all, but the only tires I can find for it are terrible in the rain much less snow or ice. I'd rather ride the bicycle more anyway. It just works. Well, hopefully it'll just work.

They should be here in about a week, which, according to cosmically preordained laws, will mark the beginning of the warmest stretch of winter weather Seattle has ever seen. I'm looking forward to the irony. Stock up on warm-weather clothing now!

Sun, 14 Jan 2007

I'm sure that's the title the local news is using to describe the weather we've been having for the last few days. Since Tuesday evening last week, it's been at or below freezing. I saw maybe 3 inches of snow at my house, but the temperature is what's important.

I've been seeing between 19° and 28° F here. That's unseasonably cold for Seattle, the lowest we normally see is just a bit below freezing. Then, this morning, I awoke to find the scene you see above, where every tree has been coated in a layer of beautiful frosting. The thermometer tells me it's 24° F as I write this.

Of course, all this has more or less shut down the city. We're not used to the cold. Our pathetic fleet of sanding and road clearing trucks is just barely enough to cover the arterials, which tend to be cleared by traffic anyway.

Of course again, this has left me more or less locked in my house. Half of my transportation options are two-wheeled, which is pretty much a non-starting idea when the road is randomly as slick as an oil patch. Oh, I could certainly ride the sidecar rig around, but something about climbing aboard a device which is going to increase my perceived wind into the road-speed range sounds improbably and numbingly cold. That leaves riding around in Kristin's car, which, while not exactly a 4WD traction monster, at least sports a healthy heater and a set of crumple zones to protect against other idiot drivers. The biggest problem with that is that Kristin has her own life, so she and her car are only here part-time.

The forecast is for the temperature to rise above freezing on Monday. Well, it was a few days ago, when word was that Monday would see 40°. Now, the forecast is just for "highs in the 30s," which could mean anything. I may be locked in for a while longer.

Perhaps the oddest thing about this weather is how suddenly it came on. On Monday and Tuesday last week, it was in the mid 40s, and clear. Then, all of a sudden, the weather story was all about this horrible cold front that would be coming through. They weren't kidding.

That seems to be the theme of the weather lately: suddenness. I'm so accustomed to weather which tips its hand hours in advance of actually doing anything. Is it raining? Then you could probably see huge, lurking clouds for hours beforehand. Snow? Yeah, you could smell it half a day ago, and see the clouds scudding in from the north.

Lately, the weather has all been happening very quickly. The best example is that on Tuesday, I went into a meeting at 2 pm, for which I had to cross the street at work. At 2, it was slightly overcast, calm and dry. The meeting wrapped up quickly, and I was out by 2:20. When I got out, the rain was pouring, and strong, gusty winds were blowing the raindrops up the street. I don't think I've ever seen weather develop that fast in Seattle.

All of which ties in neatly with increasing evidence for global warming (cue ominous music). I have no concrete proof or anything, it's just a feeling I get. Certainly one of the side-effects of increasing heat in the environment should be more exciting weather (not just generally being warmer). More heat in the atmosphere means more energy to evaporate water, and between heat and evaporating water, you've got the prime motivators for the world's weather. More weather is probably not the kind of excitement we really want.

Fri, 12 Jan 2007

Of interest to almost anyone who attempts to access my website: I'll be going hosted soonishly. That is to say, instead of my datas travelling across my miniscule and bravely struggling "144k" iDSL line (remember 56k modems? my DSL line delivers data to you at about half that rate!), they'll be living on a hulking, overpowered machine somewhere in Los Angeles, to be blasted into your browser at approximately the bandwidth of pure sunlight. That is to say, right now.

Most people should notice a considerable speed-up in accessing my eclectic ramblings and amateurish photos. With the tremendous surfeit of space, I might even be able to start hosting the odd video clip. (Oooh! How 2003!)

The transition will be happening slowly. It turns out that my website is a brain-smashing 7 GB in size (go look at what I have, and you'll see why it's so brain-smashing -- it's not like I've got that much). Suffice to say that transferring that data via my little 1/2 56k modem will be slow and painful. I'm going to investigate burning the whole thing onto a slew of CDs and sneaking into an unsuspecting coffee shop to upload it, or something. Pity I can't just send the CDs down to LA, that'd probably be a lot faster.

Tue, 09 Jan 2007

Way back in 1997, after I graduated from college with a bunch of friends, my friend C and I got an apartment in lower Queen Anne together. It just made sense, neither of us had much money, and we were long used to having (and being) roommates from college. We even both got jobs at the same company, F5 Labs.

I only lasted 4 months at F5 before being laid off, and he lasted about a year, hating every minute of it. But that's not the point of this story.

Note: not this actual car; one like it

Being flush with the phat cash (after college, any income at all seemed like phat cash), C decided he wanted to buy a car. Not just any car, he found a 1970 MG Midget (or something very similar), a sporty, fun convertible. The guy selling the MG was over in Bellevue, and we headed over to check it out.

The seller lived in a shi-shi part of town, and told us he was a lawyer. The car looked pretty good, with no obvious defects. It was definitely from 1970, the engine compartment was a study in simplicity. It had a trip permit rather than a conventional license, and the seller explained that he hadn't had a chance to get the license renewed, so he'd just gotten a trip permit.

We took the car out for a test drive. It was a blast. The exhaust note was incredible, it pulled hard, and it cornered very crisply (well, crisply for a 1970 MG, anyway). Very nice, and we were both thrilled with it. I had a vague twinge in the back of my head that I should tell C to get it inspected, just in case. I'd recently started on the habit of getting any used vehicle I bought inspected at a dealership or mechanic before buying it. It was a little bit more trouble, but seemed like a good insurance policy. In any case, I either forgot or elected not to pass on this bit of advice to C.

He bought the car, and brought it home. He'd tool around contentedly, the exhaust rumbling, and the wind in his hair. It was a really neat car.

Of course (you knew this was coming), when he took it in to get the license tabs renewed, he was told he needed an emissions check. He took it to the nearest inspection station, and got the bad news: it didn't pass. He had several choices: he could repair it up to some dollar limit (perhaps it was $400), or he could replace all the missing emissions equipment (mostly an air pump, as I recall). Either option ended up costing about the same, but it was money he couldn't afford to spend.

The last word I heard on that car was that, disgusted with it, he sold it to some car broker on Aurora for $300, a tenth of what he paid for it. I felt horrible, because, of course, it had occurred to me to say he should get an inspection done, but I'd never actually uttered the words. Who knows if an inspection would have found the problems it had, but a trained mechanic would certainly have a better chance of finding the issue than we would. In any case, I felt like it was at least partially my fault.

Our lease came up, and we parted ways in 1998, moving on to find different living situations. I quickly lost direct contact with C, although we kept in touch online for a while longer via IRC. In 2003, C got married, and that was pretty much the last I heard from him. Presumably the married life was engaging enough that it occupied all his time.

Over the next 4 years, I invited him to the various parties I threw, but never heard back. I was sad to see him dissappear out of my life, but we'd been good friends since 1993 or so, and so I wasn't too surprised to see us take different paths after a decade.

Fast forward to last week. I saw him pop up on IRC again, and mention, among other things, that he was getting divorced, and getting into vinyl records, and motorcycles. Ah-hah! thought I. A chance to renew my acquaintance!. I didn't really know how to pursue it, but by chance he responded to another email I'd sent to a large group, and we started talking bikes.

He mentioned that he was going to look at a temporary, "tide me over" bike (he's on the list to get a new Honda 919) last night, and I asked if I could come along. I love doing this kind of thing, plus I felt like I owed it to him after the MG debacle.

He sent me the link to the listing (that link will be dead in a week, sorry in advance), which includes the following gem:

I sent C a bunch of links on salvage titles, and how he should be very wary. (For what it's worth, a salvage title means that a vehicle has suffered damage bad enough that it would cost more to repair than the vehicle is worth. On motorcycles with fairings, this can happen very easily, and without impacting the bike's safety or handling, since the fairing plastics are stunningly expensive. On a motorcycle like the SV650, which has no fairings, you'd have to do bad things to it to achieve "salvage" status.)

The appointed hour arrived, and I headed over to the meeting spot, a supermarket parking lot north of the University district. I spotted C leaning against a railing wearing a riding jacket, with his helmet sitting nearby. I looped around and found a good parking spot, and we got to chatting. It was almost as if there had been no pause in our friendship, which was very nice. Since the divorce seemed like a potentially sensitive subject, we just didn't talk about it, which seemed to practically erase the missing years.

The seller's picture of the bike, from the Craigslist listing; obviously pre-tipover

The SV650 seller arrived, and we started looking it over. He seemed really nice, and I didn't get any creepy vibes off him, which was very good (some people selling used vehicles really rub me the wrong way). He explained how the knock-over had damaged the bike, pointing out a dent here, a crack there, and so on. Nothing terrible, and nothing that really leapt out at me, at least initially. The worst part was probably the broken instrument cluster, which was covered by a particularly ghetto length of duct tape.

After a bit of a chat, C climbed aboard and rode off. I chatted with the seller, and ended up giving him advice on how to look at used bikes. This SV was his first bike, and he was more than happy to get pointers on how to evaluate the purchase of his next bike. I drew his attention to the obvious things I could think of.

C returned, and proclaimed that it was nice, but felt completely different from what he's used to -- he's currently riding a 20 year old Honda Rebel 250, which looks like a really tiny Harley. It's the other end of the motorcycle spectrum from the SV650. In any case, he was enthusiastic about it. The seller asked me if I wanted to go for a ride, and I agreed that I did.

Immediately, I noticed that the handlebar was bent, with my left hand lower than my right. I mentioned it, and both C and the seller agreed after looking at it. Neither had been aware of it, but it was obvious as soon as I sat down. That was the first real danger sign.

I rode off, and down Roosevelt. I took a number of turns at a very moderate speed, but the handlebars pressed hard into my hands, wanting strongly to fall into the turn. That's not normal, and it's definitely not good. Danger sense quivering!

The engine felt fine, actually quite good. I do love the SV650 engine, they came up with a real winner there. The clutch was a bit strange, but only from the standpoint that I wasn't used to it. No indications of trouble. The brakes were fine, in fact everything else about it seemed great. That front-end problem weighed heavily on my mind, though.

When I got back and stood back from the bike, I thought I could see a slight bend in the front forks, as if someone had rammed the bike hard into a wall or something. Neither C nor the seller could see it, and I started to wonder if I was imagining it. The seller assured us that the bike had never been in a front-end collision. I told C that I would be very wary of the bike.

Despite my warnings, he gave the seller a generous (and non-refundable) deposit to hold the bike until he could take it to be inspected. It felt strange to me, but I'm not C, and he's not me, so I kept my mouth shut. He and the seller stood talking for a bit longer, and as I was letting my eye rove over the bike, I suddenly saw it. "It was in a front-end collision," I said. I pointed at the front wheel, and they both crowded around. The front wheel had an obvious flat-spot where it had smacked whatever bent the forks. C confirmed that it was on the other side as well.

The seller packed up and left, having given a receipt to C for the deposit. C and I chatted some more until his taxi came to take him to his next appointment.

I went home with misgivings. C seemed really excited by the bike, despite my words of warning. However I felt like I'd already delivered the gloomy news, and he had to deal with it however he wanted to. Repeating that gloom wouldn't earn me any points, and wouldn't help him at all.

And so, I was very relieved when I opened my email program this morning to see a message from him, which basically said, "Now that I'm over the 'gotta have it' fever, I think I agree. Do you think I should walk away from this deal?" This was followed by several other messages full of other potential bikes from Craigslist. Phew! (I did reply with a "Yes, walk away" message, just in case the decision wasn't firmly made in his mind.)

The moral of the story? I guess that it's never too late to make up for past mistakes.

Thu, 04 Jan 2007

Well, that was "easy." I went back into Dusty Strings today, and played around with the Tacoma again. After the experience in Guitar Center, I felt much better qualified to judge the Thunderchief's tonal quality and volume (although I do feel silly typing Thunderchief).

In a word, beautiful. Nice projection. Full tone. Really, quite beautiful. No fret buzz. It was even easy to play, seeming to be more compliant, despite a higher action than most of the other basses.

I came away from that thinking, "I should just get the Tacoma and stop worrying about it," but I wanted to check out the Epiphone that American Music had mentioned.

So I bided my time, and waited for 4:30 to roll around, which was when I was told to call. I dialed, and talked to Kim, the woman who'd helped me on Tuesday.

"So, did you get that shipment of new bass guitars in?" I asked after introducing myself.

"Oh, actually," she said, "I was wrong about that. There's this show that's happening in a few weeks, the [name of show] show, and we're probably not going to get anything in until then, or even after then. Look, let me take your name..."

I cut her off. "Actually, that kind of makes the decision for me. See, there's this Tacoma Thunderchief down at Dusty Strings..."

She went on to say that, oh yeah, the Tacoma pretty much blows the Epiphone out of the water anyway. That was enough. I was working on the nearly-paranoid assumption that there were 20 other bassists casing Seattle instrument shops looking for this very thing, so the thought of waiting weeks to check out an inferior bass just didn't make sense.

The Thunderchief (bad, bad Native American stereotype jokes keep occurring to me) really was the best bass I'd tried. It was too expensive (or at least more than I wanted to spend), but it was the best thing.

I restrained myself to a walking pace going back to Dusty Strings after work. As I walked in the door, the woman behind the counter asked, "Can I help you with anything?" I replied, "Yep, I'm here to buy a bass!" as I breezed past and to the corner where the Thunderchief was residing. I heard her excited sort of clucking noises in the background as I picked up the instrument, and plucked out a few halting blues riffs on it again.

Kristin came down (deeply needing an excuse to stop working), and I played for her, as she'd become my extra ears at Guitar Center. "Oh yeah," she said, "that's way nicer." I'm pretty sure she wasn't just egging me on so I'd shut up about it already. I also blew $25 on a stand, which is a luxury I've never had before, as I didn't realize they could be had so cheap. I even spent a dollar and six cents on some picks (why the guy behind the cash register didn't offer to toss them in after I paid nearly $850 for the bass and stand is slightly boggling). I've never tried using a pick before, and figured I might want the volume enhancement at some point.

Anyway, the group I've been playing with (no name, just two or three other people who like to mess around making music) met tonight, and I was able to put my new WampumBuster to work right away. It's pretty nice. I've wanted an acoustic bass guitar for... [counts on fingers] 14 years. I'm really glad I finally have one.

Wed, 03 Jan 2007

I've been to look at several different acoustic bass guitars now, and I figured I'd note my impressions of them. This is partly for my own reference, so I'm not going to dig up links to each of them. If you're not interested in ABGs, this is going to be a boring post.

The first thing I played was an Ibanez AEB30, which was used at $399. It seemed very quiet, but the acoustic environment at Trading Musician was pretty loud, so it's hard to say objectively how loud it actually was. I could barely hear myself against a background of several other people playing amplified instruments. I also know now that $399 for that bass used is a terrible price. You can get an AEG10 (which seems to be about the same thing) for $350.

Next I played a Dean Playmate, which was a bit better, but not by much. It was new. Similar price, too. It had a considerably larger body than the Ibanez, but didn't make a correspondingly more impressive sound. The Dean was $419.

Finally at that store, I tried an Ovation something or other, with all the funky soundholes up in the corner near the base of the neck. It sounded brassy and bright, and noticeably louder, but I hated the tone. It was $500 or $600, as I recall.

I was pretty dissappointed after that, and figured that would be about the end of my search. I did some digging on the old InterTubes, and found that the mythical beat-all ABG is a Tacoma Thunderchief, but of course they're not making them any more. I found a couple on Ebay, but they were $900 or so, except the one for $200 with the broken and (ugly) repaired neck and head.

Yesterday, I stopped into Dusty Strings, which is the nutty/crunchy acoustic music shoppe in Fremont. I didn't have high hopes, but it's right there in my regular lunch prowling grounds, so what the heck. I was about to leave, when I spotted the odd offset soundhole of, whaddaya know, a Tacoma Thunderchief. I sat down and played it a bit, and it sounded pretty good. It had a faint buzz somewhere inside, but made a good volume, and had a good tone. I was favorably impressed, and this one was only $750. Hmm. (Still too much money, but it might be one of those things where I kick myself later for not jumping on it.)

On the way home, I pass right by American Music, so I stopped in there to see what they had. Turns out they had a Breedlove 5-string (only $1200!) and an Ibanez AEB10 ($350 or so). I tried them both, and found the Breedlove to be nicer than the Ibanez. Duh. The Ibanez was fine, but unimpressive. The Breedlove was nice and a bit louder, but not $850 louder. The person who helped me out there said they'd be getting in a few more on Thursday, and that an Epiphone El Capitan was definitely worth looking at.

Today, I made the mini trek to Guitar Center, to see what they had in stock. They had two Michael Kelly (a 4-string and a 5-string), two Breedloves (4- and 5-string), and an Ibanez AEB10. I played them a number of times, finally with an audience (Kristin) to tell me how the projection sounded.

The Ibanez sounded a bit flat, and quiet. It was the least favorite there, and also the cheapest, at $350.

The two Michael Kelly models sounded nearly identical, brassy and bright, and much louder. Neither Kristin nor I liked the tone, though, as being too brassy and obnoxious, or too much like Gilbert Gottfried's voice, or something. The 5-string's lower two strings (E and B) were difficult to play at any volume without a lot of fret buzz.

The Breedloves ($800 for the 4-string and $1200 for the 5-string, same as at American Music) were interesting. The 4-string sounded almost identical to the $350 Ibanez. Quiet and kind of flat tone. The 5-string was the favorite tone, fuller and louder, and without all the fret buzz.

Interestingly, fret buzz was prevalent on all of the basses I've tried, with the exception of the Thunderchief. That's the biggest thing to recommend it, now that I think about it.

On an amplified bass, you don't have to hit the string too hard to make a lot of noise. Need more noise? Just turn up the amp. On an acoustic, you have to whack the string pretty hard to make a big noise, so you end up running into fret buzz. I'm sure if I were a better/more experienced player, I wouldn't have as much trouble with it.

I'm interested to see what I think of the Epiphone tomorrow, and to go back and play the Thunderchief if it's still there. Going to Guitar Center tonight was pretty informative, since I finally had a number of different basses all together, and could play them back to back to see what the differences really were.

Another thing I need to keep in mind is that apparently (according to the all-knowing internet) there can be significant differences among different serial numbers of the same model. Everyone who claims to know anything on the topic suggests that it's best to play every one of a store's selection once you've found a model you like. I guess the differences can be quite remarkable, although no one's offered a really good explanation of why it happens.

Tue, 02 Jan 2007

In the spirit of crass commercialism which is Christmas, I put the following verbiage on my wishlist:

I received a CD from my mom (who is infinitely more knowledgeable about classical music than I am). I had a guess that she'd read my wish and was going to impart something light and airy, or a nice chamber quartet. What did I find when I opened it?

(Note: I love it, but it was completely opposite of what I was expecting, and merited several laughs.)

Written by Ian Johnston. Software is Blosxom. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.