Amidst my forays into poetry (assuming a very generous definition of the term) and determining how Derek Webb wants me to vote (just kidding), I've neglected to brag about something very cool: Allison got me the best Christmas present ever -- a banjo!
We actually didn't pick it up until mid-January, since our local music store was delayed in receiving a shipment of beginner-level banjos. (I'm not exactly sure from where they were getting the banjos, as the term "shipment" made me think they were being smuggled from South America, or at least from Appalachia. Either way, the goods eventually arrived.) In God's Providence, when we went to check them out, the store also had a higher-quality used banjo in the store (tucked away in a back room, actually). So we ended up getting a pretty good bargain. I've been having a lot of fun with it, although the banjo is a beastly instrument to learn. But I'm slowly getting the hang of it!
I am a little concerned, though. The friendly clerk at the music store warned me about the stereotypical banjo player: they have a reputation for being pretty carefree and a bit too laid-back. Apparently, the store has had a running problem with lining-up banjo teachers for lessons. Without fail, the instructors ended up being a tad flaky and totally unreliable, sometimes not even bothering to show up for class. Anyway, I guess the clerk felt he had to do his duty and give me proper disclosure before selling me my banjo. At least I didn't have to sign a waiver.
I hope to write more about my banjo-playing in the future. That is, if I feel like it. Or maybe not. Whatever, man.