Yes, this place is the oasis that an old coffeehouse in Chicago used to be for me for almost 4 decades. I've probably said this before, but there are always new folks stumbling in here parched and weary as is the case at any good oasis worth it's salt, er, worth being there at all. Being rather locked in now as I am, the Mudcat keeps me in touch-----allows me to feel I'm sort of out there still on the folkroad and part of things--if ya know what I mean. Those of you who are TREKKIES (spelling?) remember how Captain Christopher Pike chose the virtual life rather than just staring blankly as the panorama passed. Yeah, I can get ticked off when the place exudes modernity and I am left feeling like a guy who has been burried prematurely. Now I say, Come what will.
And thanks, again, Max, for providing these virtual quenching fantasies that we all need to get through the deserts. (See the song "Me and Jimmie Rodgers" by Shel Silverstein. It is all about needing fantasies.

Art Thieme