Yesterday, after a sumptuous feast of fruits and pastries, soaked in black tea and coffee, with both of our kids, son-in-law and longtime friend Cathy and a small kennel of pet hounds we distributed and open presents. Having just purchased a house, put up a back fence , paid for a multitude of moving related expenses and making co-payments on cancer surgery I was thrifty, but made sure everyone got a gift, my son-in-law getting a beautiful alpaca sweater from me. (OK, it was a wool blend sweater with a llama wearing sunglasses on the front and a llama butt on the back) I got a couple of shirts and a countertop grill, but small package after small package contained guitar hangers, at least 20 of them. I quipped, " I don't think I've got enough wall space." Then my son-in-law blabbed out , "I counted at least thirty guitars when I moved 'em over here." My wife's eye brows audibly rose. I have never lied about how many guitars I have, a few years ago I stopped keeping an accurate total, but I haven't bragged about it either. Truth be told I was a little surprised. I haven't gone into the music room to count yet, but thirty doesn't seem impossible. Here's the thing, I have nothing to throw back in the s-i-l's face to raise my daughter's eyebrows. She knows about all his nerd gaming stuff, you know the 13 sided dice and destiny card kind of crap. he has no other vices. I must ponder a suitable revenge. In the meantime I'm gonna start putting up guitar hangers.