True Sh*t 10: Can't Stop the Music!

After a grueling fifty miles, where nature buffeted me with winds and lashed my cheeks with the cold, I returned to downtown Portland a very weary rider. I gained those final miles by measured effort while enduring small tortures. At the end of my odyssey was my reward: a pizza slice. On the way home, I saw the most unusual street musician, whose determination surpassed my efforts this day.

I could hear his guitar, but when I saw him, I couldn't see how he could play it. Not right away. But let me describe this man. Reddish brown skin, gray white hair and beard, dark glasses, one good arm, the other terminating in a stump about two inches below his shoulder. He knows necessity is the mother of invention, and by that tool of illimitable versatility we know as duct tape, the old man had attached a bracket to his stump, a kind of do it yourself captain hook. With this attachment he strummed his guitar while singing Take a Load off Annie.

Was anything missing? As I slowly rode away, I heard him play his harmonica.