I picked a poor pun to reply with....sounded like I was wounded. I was not, and appreciated the responses. I've never taken on such a job so was speaking from ignorance, as I said, and if you'd ever met me, you'd agree, yup, he's ignorant. The sword, since you seem interested, is actually a rusty old scimitar that was once owned by a fellow named Percival P. Tinklemouse, Jr. This is history, I mean, his story ... After a brief but unrewarding career as a piano tuner in Chug Ahlug Upchuck, and neighboring nomadic Norse villages, Tincklmouse tried his hand (no, his other hand) at being a full time piano interior decorator as generations of Tincklmice had done before him, and after him, and during him, as well, as it were, I suppose. Anyway, later (sometime after 8:00 P.M. Eastern) he traveled extensively throughout the orient and worked as a freelance sports referee. Yes, it's true. He called balls and strikes and pucks and the odd shuttlecock (though, oddly, never a shuttlehen). Anyway, he was always considered fair, so he tended to sunburn quite easily. It's harder for some of us, I suppose, but I digress, or so it seems. Perhaps, tomorrow ... The "Babe," the Sultan of Swat, the Baltimore Battler, the Bold Bambino, That's Enough!, was not born until many, many, I don't know how many years after this time, of course, so Tinklemouse, never got to seem him play which was a pity and gave him a certain reputation for being totally Ruthless. Because he was particularly portly, with prodigiously pudgy protruding posterior parts, he had to make his calls while seated on a (very) wide footstool. This was a steel footstool that his mother knitted for him using steel wool. The Woolworth's people still want to know who stole the steel wool over their eyes, but that is another story that doesn't make sense either. Anyway this all went to make Ol' Percy quite famous, in his day, and many people still remember the Ottoman Umpire. In (almost) any event (Reformed Druid weddings and Al Qaeda potluck suppers excepted) he used his trusty rusty sword to make points that stuck in people's minds, or wherever directed. Many said that the use of such a barbarous instrument (not to be confused with a razor and strop) was downright, outright, cartwright, up tight, out of sight, baby everything is all right .... oh, wait ... unsporting and gave him an unfair edge, rather like steel steroids, but he directed cutting remarks at his critics and they soon, as it were, got the point. Anyway, this famous bit of history (the sword, in case you were lost) fell into my hands in 1968 and it hurt a lot. Due to severe rusting and a chronic congenital case of genital swordrot, we have had to replace the blade several times and the hilt, twice. But it really is the original scimitar that Sir Percival (did I tell you he was knighted by the Queen? Perhaps I didn't, that would have made the whole story unbelievable, so forget it, he was just "Mr." Percival to you.) wielded (and occasionally welded -- swordrot, you know) so proudly. Trust me. So, Percival's great-great-well-not-so-great grandson became an airport screener. It was either that or medical school and he wanted the challenge. Last Wednesday, he stopped a vulture who had particularly dead woodchucks under each wing. "Hey," he said, articulate lad that he is, "Each passenger is only allowed one carrion." The poor bird, piqued and a little miffed left in a Huff—a 1936 Huffmobile, that is, with those chromed running boards and big fat whitewalls. He said he'd rather drive, anyway. Somewhere near Treestump, South Carolina, he stopped for a one-legged hitchhiker. "Hop in!" he said... Bu dit, bu dit, bu dit, bu That's all folks! Alan Barnard Salem, Missouri B.S. Now before you say anything out there in List Land, note that I did say OT at the beginning and I did work the word "piano" into this misguided massive missive. Life is far to important to take seriously. And besides an old upright beat me up on the playground this afternoon ... . > [Original Message] > From: Conrad Hoffsommer <hoffsoco@luther.edu> > To: <tune4u@earthlink.net>; Pianotech <pianotech@ptg.org> > Date: 06/01/2005 9:49:17 AM > Subject: Re: Pinblock Plugging; was: woe on the boat,(block epoxy) > > At 09:23 6/1/2005 -0500, you wrote: > >As the loser of the sword fight said: "Point taken." > > > >Alan Barnard > >Salem, Missouri > > > Was that with sabre, rapier, foil, epee, broadsword, or Samurai? > > Skewering was not my intent, just demonstrating my laziness. > > > > > Conrad Hoffsommer > It is a mistake to allow any mechanical object realize that you are in a hurry.
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