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Draplin Design Co., North America

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Been on a Neil Young kick the last couple days, learning his songs on the D-35.

337. “The D-35.”

Mom let me rip her copy of Live At Massey Hall from 1971. 36 years ago, man. Pretty good stuff. Every couple years I tear into him real hard and then get absolutely sick of it.

The trailer here is required viewing. So grainy and good.

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Getting ready to leave. Cleaned Big S out, lubed him up, and will start packing him this afternoon. Plan on pushing off tomorrow afternoon, and heading down to Chicago to do a little business the following morning. A long haul ahead of us.

Help: I need a place to stay in Chicago. Any takers? Must love dachshunds.

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Kinda wish I would made the run down to OKC to see this one, last fall, on Sept. 15th. Instead, I spent the day in Cincinnati. Pretty good.

Definately gonna be real hammered up the next time I see them. Much more fun. The next time? There’s a chance I might cruise out to the Bonnaroo thing in Tennessee with a client who has a booth there. Yay. All access.

The Police (wheelchairs are allowed on stage?), Those Lips, Wilco, Decemberists, Gillian Welch, Black Keys, Spoon, The Hold Steady, Tortoise and Charlie Louvin are all reasons to hop a flight to Nashville or wherever for a long, hot weekend this summer.

I swore off the festival thing a couple years back, so, I’m a little apprehensive to dig into this.

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Dad showed some of his “Polish Folk Art” yesterday at Odom’s at their mini-Expo here in Traverse City. Dad’s been known to get pretty freestyle with the recycled goods. Awesome.

338. “The proud craftsman stands still, for at least one second.”
339. “Polish Folk Art.”
340. “License plate magic.”
341. “Gramma Carol and a bunch of VanKleets.”
342. “A seat from the old Opera House in town.”
343. “Feed Thru.”

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Maybe it was Evan saying something about it? I remember hearing about a web site about “Pictures of people taking pictures.” or something. Photos of people posing in front of some family member snapping off a shot, and how odd and uncomfortable the moments are, and how they just kinda hang in space, stationary. Here’s a bunch from someone’s trip to Alaska. Wow. Odd. (Made me miss Alaska just a smidge, then, wince, thinking about my rough Midnight Sun summers up there in those wild, late ’90s.)

We take the whole deal one step further: “Pictures of people taking pictures of people’s asses.”

344. “P.O.P.T.P.O.P.A. #001.”

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