I thought I'd add this bit about the return home, which explains the injuries I described in the lengthy screed which begins this thread. It refers to Detroit Metro.

On my way back from Midwest Banjo Camp I tripped over some guy's foot as I was trying to get to a seat in the airport gate's waiting room. I fell flat on my face: both hands were busy hanging on to bag and banjo straps, both were up around my shoulders. Luckily, I wasn't badly hurt, and I assured someone who had rushed over that I was mostly okay, but after I stood up, I looked at the guy whose foot I had tripped over, looked down at his foot--since he was sitting kind of twisted in his seat, his left foot was about a foot farther out than his right--then looked back at him. He looked back at me without expression and without apology. Before I could say anything, an airline employee came over to check on me--I told him I thought I was all right and proceeded to the seat I had been aiming for.

Before I could do more than sit down, my name was called by the employee at the check in stand, and I was informed that I was being placed on an earlier flight, one which was already boarding. Not feeling any great pain and having movement in all my joints, I proceeded to the small United Express plane and was placed in seat 1-B, wide and comfortable, with plenty of leg room--and best of all, just six feet from the tall and beautiful young African-American flight attendant, Tika, whose seat was just behind the cockpit. Since most of the flight time was takeoff and landing, all but ten minutes of the flight I spent in conversation with this delightful young lady, who just after the landing at O"Hare told me that sometimes after flights when the plane isn't scheduled to return to service that day, she sleeps in the seat I was occupying. I couldn't resist the temptation, on the way out, to tell her, "I will always cherish the memory of the time I spent in your bed." Luckily, she took it in the spirit in which it was offered, laughed, and wished me well.

I had about a two hour wait before my flight to San Francisco and I spent it partly in inventory of my parts, and those of my banjo. I had fallen on some part of the banjo [I thought at the time] and had a bruise on the right side of my chest. My left wrist had been the first part of me to hit the floor, and I have a bruise there, as well, and possibly a bone bruise under it, but I could still move all my fingers. I got the banjo out, looked it over--found it to be out of tune but otherwise in good condition. One head bracket was bent, but I'm not sure that happened in the fall. The waiting area was sparsely populated, no one very near me, so I tuned it up and began playing softly, and passed the first hour of my wait time in that manner. I had to take a couple of Tylenol as soon after takeoff as I could leave my seat, but otherwise the flight was uneventful, but as usual, cramped both horizontally and laterally.

Since coming home I have played Kathy Barton-Para's CD that I bought in the store--great stuff. She plays other instruments as well as banjo, including hammered dulcimer on at least one of the tunes. She gave out tabs for a few of her tunes, but most of them are not on her CD. I've also checked out the Brad Leftwich Round Peak Style book, but haven't listened to the CD yet. Since he usually plays fretless, all the tabs (whch indicate frets) are focused on the first five frets, fretless players rarely going very high on the fingerboard.

Charles