scattered reflections
I watched A Concert for George on PBS last night. . .had never seen it before. Lots of great musicians, and of course lots of great music. One performance in particular touched me. . .Clapton's solo on My Guitar Gently Weeps. It was so emotional and heartfelt. The electric guitar can be such an expressive instrument in the right hands and heart. The heart. . .that's where all the good stuff happens.
About this picture - that's me "playing" a banjo my maternal great-Grandfather made out of a cake tin, wire, and wood. I understand he was quite amazing with his hands, especially when it came to wood. He whittled the neck, bridge, and tuning posts of my banjo. The thing actually worked, and sounded kinda like a banjo. What a sweet gift that was. "Give rest, O Lord, to the soul of Thy servant who has fallen asleep." Memory eternal great-Grandad! Somehow I’ve suffered no permanent harm from the pointy things in life by the grace of God and the help of my beloved wife Macrina, our Church, my children, extended family, friends, and even enemies and demons (unwittingly). I'm known as Reader Nectarios in the Eastern Orthodox Church, an electronic engineer at work, a singer-songwriter in some circles, and as a member of a mostly-idle pop band called The Strawmen. It's all related, somewhat confusing, and good for me.
