Open Thread

It’s interesting.
I needed an iPhone battery replacement, and living remote it’s not easily accomplished, but I found a one man rogue service located an hour or so away.
Made an appointment and arrived at the location—an old time chinked log cabin, which probably served as a bunkhouse for cattle hands long ago.
Tack hung on the log walls. A four hole wood cook stove sat in a corner adjacent to an iPhone work bench with a focus light and micro tools.
The center space was dominated by a quilt covered piano—probably 8 feet long and four wide, minimum. A box of phone batteries and other parts sat atop it.
My phone repair guy and I exchanged information. He was a New Orleanista piano player for a decade, living marginally as most musicians and artists do. Then Katrina struck and he took up cell phone repair as a lucrative sideline.
We talked about precarity and living a marginal life in terms of material security.
Then after having talked too much I took the exit cue. Walking me out he looked at the three year old Subaru I drove there, and I felt compelled to inform him that a friend loaned it to me so I could get my phone fixed.
Later I reflected that everything I wore that day was given to me—shoes, socks, pants, underwear shirt and coat. My hat was the only thing I’d bought, but the hatband, which is its best feature was also a gift.
The point being is you can usually get what you need. And there’s magic in the world if that’s what you’re looking for.