IGM A Positive Experience

Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: A Positive Experience
6-1-10

This month Nita and I will be celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary. (No applause, please. But feel free to send money.) As you can imagine, I have been wracking my brain to think of an idea worthy of her, and the big 4-0. Most of my anniversary attempts have been on the order of,
“happy anniversary, honey, how about dinner and a movie?” Or even more likely, "hey, wasn't it our anniversary last month?"
Although once, a few years ago, I surprised her with a weekend trip to Zion National Park, and that was a huge success. Except it was a valentine’s present, and we went to the Park in Feb. But it was still awesome—we had the place pretty much to ourselves.
So I have to at least top that, right?
Then it hit me. I knew the perfect gift. Let me now include a little background;
Years ago, Nita and I started to go to a bluegrass festival held every fall in Logandale, NV. A good friend of ours (he was a Bishop at the time) was in a bluegrass band, and they were very good, and we loved going to hear them play. So one day he invited us to come to the festival, and we did, and listened to good music for eight hours a day for two days. We were hooked. By the way, the band is called “The Warburton’s”, and several years ago they took the top prize at the very prestigious Wolftrap International Bluegrass something-or-other. They are two brothers, a sister, and a good friend. (I just looked, and couldn’t find them on Youtube, so I’ll have to email Kelly and yell at him.) You’ve gotta hear “Lehi Roller Mills,” a song Marty, the leader, wrote about summer employment in a misspent youth.
Anyway, ever since, Nita has been in love with the mandolin, and has fantasized about playing one. As far back as the early 70’s, she loved the sound of Joni Mitchell’s lap dulcimer, and I was always going to make one for her (from a kit), but never have.
So this morning I bought her a mandolin. I have been looking online all week, searching the internet, emailing people, trying to get some ideas as to what brand to buy, how much to spend, etc. Well, I found a place called the Mandolin Store, and it is in, of all places—are you sitting down?—The Wickenburg TRIANGLE. That’s right, the tiny little store is in the city of Wickenburg, AZ.
But that’s not why I called you all together this morning. I did that, so I could tell you about the wonderful experience I had dealing with Dennis, at the Mandolin Store. It was all via email, other than this morning, when he called to get a credit card number. (I used yours, Leah) I told him what I was looking for, and that I had this one in mind, on his website, and that I knew nothing about mandolins—mando’s to the initiated. He was incredibly helpful, and patient, and knowledgeable.
When I am communicating via the internet, I always write to everyone as if we are long-lost friends; very informal, very personal, and chatty. (No! Really?) Most people no doubt think I’m from Mars when I do that (close, but no cigar), and ignore it. Dennis, picked it right up and gave it back. I told him all about my heart attack and surgery, and how our 40th was coming up and my wife has always wanted a mandolin. He told me happy anniversary, and all about having to move a bunch of furniture over the long weekend, and how he wouldn’t be able to get to the mandolin until today. It was fun; it felt just like it should have. He told me he had one of the model I was looking at, and that for my budget, it was far and away the best pick. (What an eye, huh?) But then he told me he had 4 new ones coming in, and he’d be happy to wait a few days, so he could sample them all and choose the best one for me. He assured me he would have the mandolin “set up” for beginners, and pick out a book and CD he thought would be appropriate for a 60-year old madwoman.
From beginning to end, it was a positive, life-affirming, loads of fun experience. The kind we see all too rarely.
So . . . if you do a Google search for The Mandolin Store, Dennis should come up. If you click on the site, you will see a photo of the tiny little building with the Arizona desert in the background. Dennis sells other things too, like guitars and banjos, and does repairs. Check him out, say hello, and if you’re ever in the market for an acoustic instrument, give him a chance to win you over.
And if you’re ever passing through Wickenburg, stop in and say hello—I know I will. But be careful . . . because the place might have vanished into the arcane and mysterious depths of the dreaded, Wickenburg Triangle!
Now don’t tell Nita about any of this! She doesn’t get the mando until June 13th. Happy anniversary, baby.