Hey, Llanfair -- pity we didn't know about you last year, when we were in Wales for the rugby. It was grand, but a Mudcat visit would have made it even better.

In my single days, I found that getting out with an instrument was not only a great way to meet people, but also a great way to sort out the datable men.

The ones to be avoided identified themselves very quickly. "Hi, honey; where'd you get the teeny-tiny guitar?" (It's a mandolin. Duh.) "Whaddaya play? Folk music? Any money in that?"

The ones with potential sit down and say, "Do you know (name of tune)?" or "Do you ever get to the session at the (name of venue)"? They talk about music until enough common ground has been established to permit a closer acquaintance.

I'm sure there are creeps who play music, but so far I haven't met any -- or perhaps I have spent all my time in their company playing tunes, so they didn't get much latitude to be creepy.

During the stunned phase of post-divorce life, I found that music -- especially choir practice -- provided an essential structure and program that prevented me from going completely around the bend.

You should take Leadfingers up on his offer! He's a great player with a terrific repertoire -- and great company, too.