Sorry I didn’t do a earlier post today. Got caught up in family stuff.
My dad was a geologist, and I’ve been sorting through some of his work things. If you’re looking for crazy specific niche scientific tools, have I got an estate sale for you! Seismograph parts. Space age looking metal detectors. Surveyor’s transits both big and small. Ultra-violet lamps for mineral identification. 3 beam scales. Rock pulverizers. Bronze sample cores of various diameters. Legitimate gold panning equipment (one of his hobbies was reading about lost gold mines in the west). Is there a type of magic that involves gathering a deceased person’s items in one place to conjure them? If so, this would be the time.
I’m bringing back one of his rock hammers, various drafting pencils & rules, and some hand held transits.
I’m also trying to figure out what to do with his guns. The only memory of my dad actually shooting is him using a .22 to try to demap gophers from our yard. Gophers were his mortal enemy. He stopped hunting when I was around 4, when he unwittingly got bit by a baby rattlesnake on his ass somewhere in the mountains around San Luis Obispo, fell asleep under an oak tree for 10 hours, and drove home in a daze. He didn’t know what happened until my mom saw the bite marks on his cheek, and screamed. I’m not a gun guy, but he’s got a rifle that was his great-uncles from the late 1890s that was sat on by a horse, a pristine hunting rifle, a vintage shotgun with walnut stocks, and a couple small gauge rifles. They’re from another time, and while it’d be a shame to see them just gather dust, I also don’t want them in the hands of the kinds of people who are members of the fucking NRA now. Guns, to them, are power, not tools. Fuck them, and fuck gun worship.
So George Michael’s time was up too, huh? Man, it’s not been a great year for older pop singers who weren’t precisely straight. Watch your back, Morrissey.
Sharks @ Ducks
7:00 PM Pacific
Prediction: these games just never stop, do they?