Last year, Gus was joined in the patriotic salute by buddy William Van Camp. This year, the ranks may swell to three with a representative from the Leib Hornbostel Institute - it should be thrilling, or disastrous, or both.
This one is available through June 15; here's the translation of the inscription, as supplied by the seller:
We were on the beach when a gigantic octopus came out from the sea and it was going to hug Mariana with the tentacles but thanks to the Virgen de Guadalupe the music of my guitar seemed to distract it and to calm it and it was listening and we, little by little, were going away without stopping to play the music that had charmed to the octopus.
And so we learn that (along with sunscreen and beer) one should always take along a guitar when one goes to the beach, for to ward off the octopi.
In Flann O'Brien'sThe Third Policeman, bicycles suddenly disappear in an odd, sinister way. We're having the opposite problem around here - I got a note from the local Post Office that a large parcel was being held for me. Went over, picked it, got back to the Museum and opened it up:
... which was sort of odd, 'cos I hadn't bought a folding bike. I thanked my friends at the Janus Museum, but none of them had bought it for me - no surprise there, the cheapskates. Called my brother Granville - he, also, had not bought it for me, though my birthday is coming soon, actually. I sent a message to the eBay seller who shipped it - have not heard back from him, yet. I'm not going to do anything with it 'til the situation's clarified a bit - may have to ship it back to the seller, if he ponies up the shipping money. Damn thing looks like a suicide waiting to happen, anyway...
