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One other funny thing.

When I was in college, I worked on the floor of a factory where my father was the Chief Engineer. We were known as Papa Zurf and Baby Zurf.     

I don't know that I've ever recieved a higher honor.

My father's name was Don. His father's name was Pete. He told me that the thing he liked most was when he and he father would walk together purple would say, "Here comes Pete and Re-Pete."

I get that now

All,

Thank you.

There was a time not long ago when I wouldn't have cared what room he was in, I would have laid long odds that my father was the smartest man in it. Ever fly in a wide body jet? If so, your life relied on the quality of my father's mind. He was the person who worked the calculus and set the standards for wide body versus circular cross section. It was applied to subs too, so if you were in the sub service, Daddy had your back. He was absolutely brilliant.

So, when his church called and told me they needed me to come and help ease the news to him that he couldn't do their finances any more because there were too many arithmetic errors, I knew something was up. Don Zurfluh does not make math errors. Ever.

That was three years ago. Almost all my time has been committed to his care since then. It has been a curious adventure. I used to think Dad was my hero because of his brilliance. Over the past three years, I have watched as every dignity was stripped from him. No matter what, throygh every loss, he remained kind.

No more is he my hero because of his brilliance. His brilliance was stripped from him and yet he continued to comfort and inspire others. Now, after all has been said and done, he remains my hero. But now it is because of his kindness, which shined through every indignity, unfairness, and hardship.

I held his hand and rubbed his arm, and proclaimed my love to his very last moment.

To play Country Gospel songs at his memorial was a great honor. They were Blessed Assurance, Softly and Tenderly, and Leaning On The Everlasting Arms. The latter was his favorite song to sing. It was the final song of the memorial service. We rocked the house. The old church bitties looked a little guilty at the end. That's how I know we did it right.

I was using the guitar I recently bought from Dirty Ed. I have better guitars, but none of them would do.     

There is a locally owned chain store in my town. It's a small chain. It's almost entirely oriented around renting instruments to school kids, and then maybe supporting them with supplemental lessons and books. But since that describes two of my kids, I use the shop.  There's another very small shop near by my house which is pretty much the same model, but more oriented towards guitar, bass, and fiddle instruction. 

A town up the road about fifteen miles has a nice shop that specializes in teaching kids, but they have a decent selection of mid-grade instruments and accessories. Pretty small store, but the merchandise is selected carefully so pretty much everything in there is useful. No squeeze in the middle light up fish keychains of the sort that one might see at the big box stores.  I've got a sticker from them on my car.

A town the other direction about ten miles has a HUGE shop with everything, very knowledgeable people, repairs, lessons, a stage where they put on productions and lessons and events, and some very cool stuff plus all the pro audio you need.  They do a very big on-line business in used instruments. They take trades on new equipment, patch it up and clean it up, then sell it on-line for a nice profit. They do real well with that and it works out well for everyone. I've bought quite a lot of books and instructional DVDs from them. I also think I've bought three guitars and a bass from them, plus maybe eight harmonicas. I have a bumper sticker from them on a couple of my guitar cases.

We're pretty well blessed in this area. 

Guitar Center stinks. I might buy a guitar strap or a book from them. Otherwise... eh.     

I have been home so little this year that I think I'm not likely to make it. I'd like to go to a high school football game and spend a little time with my wife and kids. Subject to change.     

Bluejeep - I'm happy for you getting back to something that brings you joy. Keep up the good work. Good luck with that GAS.

Bill - There is a difference in the chemical makeup between super glue and liquid bandage. There is a component of super glue which is toxic. Now of course as Aristotle said and is still true, the poison is in the dose. So though super glue has a toxic compound, the dose is so small that it's unlikely to have a negative impact. Nevertheless, that compound is replaced with something not toxic in liquid bandage. I'd recommend liquid bandage in lieu of super glue, but have used super glue many, many times on my own fingers as I most often cut my hands when doing some manual labor, and I don't keep liquid bandage in my tool kit. Probably I should put some in my first aid kit. 

Very cool.

I bet Roscoe played with him.  :-)

I forgot Ramblin' Jack Elliott. In particular I've borrowed his pattern based fingerpicking and singing not quite at the same speed. The latter part wasn't on purpose.

Playing style wise, the persons who influence me most are Mississippi John Hurt, Merle Travis, and Johnny Cash.

Inspiration wise, the persons who influence me and inspire me most are my friends. Dirty Ed, Topdown, Topdawgz, Garuchi, my next door neighbor, Southpaw. All the folks who are there and who I can send a text or a clip to or sit down with and work something out.

'

What if I use Sissified 70's Folk/Pop as lullabies (which I do). Cat Stevens' Moonshadow being one of the favorites.

Ha ha ha.  What fun!  Thanks Jandle.

We celebrated our 30th running errands. 35th in a couple years. I expect I should be ready for the same kind of excitement.

It's looking pretty strong - probably 90% - that I'll be there on Saturday late afternoon. I'll stay the night and head out Sunday morning. So not a long visit, but I will make it. I will not have any human companions.