It was a red truck running amok in the back of a white truck. The banjo neck protruded just slightly back of the driving compartment, but that was enough.

The first luthier I took it to didn't want the job; he was too backed up to take it on, he said. Yesterday I went on a 200-mile four-city odyssey looking for something to play NOW (playing being the only appropriate therapy. The Thin Man in Alameda happened to have the sister or brother or at least first cousin of my shattered beauty: same pockmarked old pot, same absolute lack of identifying marks, similar ingenious mating of neck and pot. So I bought it for $400. They even threw in a gig bag identical to the one I already have. It's like having twin banjos, or will be someday.

I think what I'll probably do is order up parts somewhere and see if I can get a luthier to put them together for me. I did build a mountain dulcimer twenty years ago, but these days my level of craftsmanship offends me, so I won't try to do it myself.

I did play drums in my grade school orchestra some 54 years ago, but I didn't care for it even then. So no bodhran.

Some day, Charley....