So my nerdilated life has hit a little speed bump (or traffic calming, if you will). I had a busy week, and the things I thought might be interesting to share really weren't, so you're getting more of a factlet clip show. Have a beer and make the best of it.
This week we mourn the passing of Les Paul, born in my one-time home town of Waukesha, WI, and inventor of the modern electric guitar. I had a guitar as a child, after I begged each Christmas for Santa or Jesus to drop one off for me. I loved my guitar, loved the way the strings squeaked as I ran my hand up the ridges and tightened them. However, being fat-handed and unmotivated, I made it through one makeshift lesson with the neighbor before I gave up on the whole thing. For the next 25 years, my 'axe' went from home to home with me, until our move to Florida meant some drastic purging of childhood embarassment and the guitar went to Goodwill. In reading about electric guitars today, I decided that I really don't find them that interesting. Fail.
This Sunday, in addition to being my mom's birthday, is the anniversary of the King's untimely 'death' in 1977 (or was it?) As the King of Rock 'n' Roll, with roots in rockabilly (which itself is seeing a recent resurgence, according to the AirTran magazine I read on yesterday's flight), proceeded to offend God-fearing conservatives everywhere while hanging with Ann-Margaret and Richard Nixon. Cool guy, you bet. Worth a whole Triple-F entry to himself? Doubtful.
My next thought was to share with you the exciting history of the jukebox. Apparently, the Jook was a dance back in the day, but I didn't feel like finding out what kind. Beyond that, coin-operated stereos, sounds like a specialized vending machine to me. Didn't we already do that?
Finally, for some unknown reason, I figured I'd research the fun, extensive history of goldfish crackers. Pepperidge Farms makes the little critters, and I love them, but really. Crackers?
I think maybe I'll just go have a beer.