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Hi Folks, I'd like to share this poem with you. Enjoy! Bill M Letter to Dick from the Bottom Line Hi Brother. Regretfully, I could not pick you up when you arrived at LAX. I missed the fun riding escalators, walking upstream through revolving doors. However, once I have the sensors implanted in my Globus Pallidis, get wired to a tiny subcuticular electrical zapper, and they turn the magnet - that zaps the zapper - over to me, I think I should be back to normal. The way it works is, when you start to shake, wave the magnet across the zapper that mildly shocks my Globus Pallidis that cancels the signal from the brain that stops tremors. I said jokingly to my neurologist, "I can zap all day". Become an addict. And the dealer is my own Thalamus gland. A miniature orgasm machine, like the one in "Sleeper". Ahh! Ahh! Etc. Don't think he appreciated the irony of it all. Have to say, the old time music we played last night had to be the best. Now, if I could only recollect those fiddle tunes I bowed. I found that I was walking up and down your solid bottom line you picked and I could feel perfect tension between the fiddle and guitar. Its the first time I really noodled with some mountain tunes, like Sally in the Garden, Old Beech Leaves and that polka. I never know the name. Another thing, let's work on more old tunes and instrumentation. You. Dear brother. The guy who turned me on to old time music. O rasty bass line guitarist! O vanishing Snow Leopard! Rare, but highly sought after. Looking forward to doing it again. Keep your shorts dry, brother. As always. Love, Bill