Back in town for a bit it seems. And now we begin the very real process of packing and moving.

I did return from Vancouver – very much a fan of the place – and with a most interesting souvenir.

I finally got a tattoo.

From as far back as I can remember I wanted a tattoo. See, my dad has one and I grew up seeing it every day and when I was small I figured I would grow up to be just like him and thus a tattoo was required.

He got the tattoo right before he shipped out of Norfolk for the Pacific in World War II. It was his first time so far from home, he was barely 18, and he was headed into uncertainty.

That was 60 years ago.

Mine will never have the meaning that his has. Call it a small tribute, call it what you will. But I feel that much closer to my dad now.

So anyway – we did get to spend some time with the parental units during our annual pilgramage to the land of my birth and the juggernaut that is Merlefest. We discovered many fine new bands, saw some old favourites and drank some beer with The Chieftains in a steakhouse bar. No, really!

I also ran into my dear old friend David. He and I worked together at the record store for 7 years, and lived in the same house together (he had the upstairs apartment, I had the downstairs apartment) for a couple of years. It was purely happenstance that we ran into him and his daughter – but it made my week.

Sometimes you just don’t realize how much you miss someone…

Well – this is too brief an update, but I have to go pack more boxes and try to convince myself that I really don’t need the complete set of Froude’s History of England….