I used to blow up beaver dams as part of working for American Can, now James River Paper. Used 3 sticks. Had to stop them from washing out the road. You could always buy some nice trout from me. A buck or two each. i Lots of Americans came up and camped on our 400 miles of private roads. I was the Fire Marshal and in charge of explosives. On weekends I'd pretend I though Michigan was in Europe and sell them fish and take pictures of them. Hilarious. Played the northern hillbilly type. Now that I'm old I often wish I'd stayed there. I could get them to leave and go elsewhere by telling tall tales of bessie the mean bear who ripped tents for fun. She broke into campers too.

I liked funnin' them about 'merican beer. This would be in the early 70's. I'd spit it out and get them 'real' beer from my pickup truck painted red and and the cherry on top. Usually Brasd'or. 7 percent. Get 'em good and drunk.

Oh well, just back from Brass Band practice and lost the high A 1/2 way through. Better get back at scales and breathing.....tomorrow.

John Conley
Musica est vita