So Maker Faire over the weekend went pretty great. I made a hundred or so custom buttons for kids that they drew at the event. At times it felt like working retail & at other times it felt like teaching an art class. It’d be nice to have that as my future day job. We’ll see what happens about doing more events.
There’s a band that’s out of Chicago doing a thing where if you buy a CD you’re entered into a raffle to win the guitarist’s old cheap guitar. Pretty brilliant idea. I’m thinking about doing the same thing with some of my old pedals. Anyone in the USA placing a ten dollar order is entered in a raffle to win one of my old pedals or something like that. I mean, I don’t have the heart to sell my old Digitech octave pedal that I used from 1995-2002, but I could give it away for someone else to sell or throw away.
Last Night’s Dreams:
Instead of moving my grandmother down to North Carolina to take care of her, I move in with her in Pennsylvania to take care of her. I’m talking to Nathan Amundson (Rivulets) on the phone while getting ready for work on my third shift job & I hear my grandmother moving around in the living room & I hang up the phone & rush in. Usually she’s in bed by now, but she’s stayed up watching a movie. Everything’s fine, she asks me to get her a tapioca pudding & I do. In the kitchen on the floor I have four sheets of newspaper laid out on the floor & I paint on them an explanation of why I hung up the phone & send a picture of it to Nathan.
There’s a little girl who I don’t recognize in my kitchen. She grabs my cigar cutter off the counter & starts spinning it around her finger. I say, “Don’t do that, people get their fingers cut off with those things!” She stops & her finger is bleeding & she starts to cry when she sees the blood. I set her on the counter & wash the cut clean in the sink.
I’m working at the airport loading the Jettlyplanes for the first flights of the day, sitting in a bin waiting for some luggage to load. I’m staring out at the other aircraft across the way & I see it start to roll forward, which shouldn’t be happening. A scintillating Jettly logo shines as the jet moves. But the brakes are disengaged & all three wheels are unchocked. I watch as it rolls through a fence & into a pond that holds runoff water from the tarmac. Everybody is running around freaking out & I’m just waiting for the luggage to come so I can start working on my own job.
XO comes out of retirement as a vigilante instead of a hitman to kill a child molester let off on a technicality.