After a long week of molding the minds of ukulele players I'm off to the Haines State Fair. The only bad part of the trip down there is the only way to drive there is to cross the border into Canada. Not that I don't like Canada, but when you look like a wildman and have a ukulele border agents tend to want to "talk to you" a little longer and enjoy inspecting your things. Sometimes I believe when I'm flying out of Alaska that TSA is waiting, just waiting, to grope me. They never fail to rub me down with the "backs of their hands". Arg.
Good times.
Two weeks until my wedding. I must be getting old.
2 Weeks! Then you can be rubbed down proper!
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