Custom commute

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This is a 1966 Ford Custom 500. I see this guy occasionally on my way in to work. I want to drive something like this to work every day. Okay, maybe not exactly like this, but something old and cool, and this is certainly a lot older and cooler than anything I’ve driven in to work since maybe I was riding the R90S to work, and even that is ten years newer than this thing (although it is incredibly cool).

Do you have a favorite car, a favorite OLD car? What would your ideal commuter vehicle be, if’n it could be something with a little class and style? I have a list, but it’s about twenty or forty vehicles long. Right now I’d like it to be a ’55 Chevy done up like the one in the movie “Two Lane Blacktop.”

Electrical artistry

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Back in the good ol’ days, before the advent of the printed circuit board, they used to make amplifiers by soldering things together one piece at a time, one guy sticking things together bit by bit. This is one such outstanding example of what was once standard procedure, now practiced largely by boutique amplifier makers. This whole crazy mess actually makes sound, glorious sound, emit from a guitar in a wondrous cacophony of toneful toneliness. Being fans of good tone at Casa de Tom, this sort of thing goes over quite well.

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If you’re gonna do it, do it right.

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I love this. I absolutely adore this. I like to think that the owner, faced with the dilemma of home car repair, held a roll of silver duct tape, looked concernedly at the bumper of their Ford, and said, “No, this will never do. We can’t have silver on blue. Can’t! It’s ludicrous! Madness, I say!” and then he or she trundled off to the local hardware store and sorted through an immense selection of duct tape while holding a paint chip for said vehicle, and fretting over just the perfect shade that would effectively render the repair completely invisible. Had I not developed such an eagle eye from months of photographic work, I would surely have not even noticed it. Admirable, artistic, amazing.

Obvious things you never knew

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Read that subtitle. That’s right, Peter Green “founder of Fleetwood Mac.” Lots of people don’t know about this guy. I didn’t know about him for years. Sure, I’d heard about every single cut off of “Rumors.” I’d heard “Black Magic Woman,” and “Oh Well,” but I’d never heard about this guy. Funny how things go in the world. This is the guy who started it all, and this is the guy who B.B. King said, was the only guy “who ever made me sweat.” He was good. He was damn good. He was a colossus, and comparatively few people have heard of him.

Fleetwood Mac started out as a stone blues band, and they were outstanding. There are plenty of recordings of the original lineup. You can Youtube them, read this book, buy one of the first four CDs, whatever. It’s out there, though, and it’s fantastic. Green was outstanding on “Man of the World, Lazy Poker Blues, Stop Messin’ Round,” and “Jumpin’ at Shadows,” aside from the previously mentioned tracks that actually receive radio airplay on occasion. (No, Carlos Santana did not write “Black Magic Woman,” though that is a great take on the tune.) This is not so much a plea or campaign for converts, but if that sort of thing interests you, check into it. It could be an introduction to some incredible music.

Blooming

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I have a bunch of peony plants in my yard. Right now they are all starting to bloom, and I caught this one just about 24 hours away from opening fully. There are several that have already bloomed, but I love how this one looks like it’s on the verge of bursting. I think this is the point where a flower could be considered “yearning.” It’s petals look like they’re absolutely aching to lay wide to the sun and take it all in, inviting bees and ants to come and partake of its pollen.