“A type of accordion. Very difficult to play.”“Is that what you have over in the living room?” I asked, remembering the splayed instrument on ...her server.“Yes! That was his personal instrument.”“So you got the dancing from your mom,” I asked, “and music from him? Or did he dance, too?”“No, he definitely could not dance. He had polio when he was young and needed a cane just to be able to walk. But, he certainly could make the bandoneon dance.”“I guess he doesn’t play anymore?”“No. He is no longer. Like the lawn mower I know nothing about car repairs. It cranked but would not start. I knew I was running the battery down. Down the street was a guy who ran a wrecker service. I told Jennifer we should get him to tow the car to a automobile repair place not too far away. Of course she said they couldn't afford it. I said I would pay for it. She protested but finally agreed. Later the repair place called her and quoted around $1200 dollars to fix what was broken. Jennifer almost collapsed when. Most, plainly and simply wanted to have anonymous sex over the Internet with one another. A point that was lost on me to one degree or another as there never was the intimacy of shared thought or opinion that stimulated the mind. And as a side note, I was most recently reminded of that very fact by another good friend, both author and reader herself who again reiterated that very point. She has often asked those of whom she meets, what they feel to be the most erotic part of the body. It’s. You see, Banzai jury-rigged up a nice as hell shower from all the crap he collected and which we hauled around. Damn he could give Rube Goldberg a run for his money! Of course the little fart rubbed it in several times by making sure I knew that if I had thrown away all the crap earlier, he couldn't have made this nice as hell shower. Then he once again made me wait until he was done. But it was worth it because I liked showers better than baths - nothing was worse than sitting in your own.