I received a package the other day from my Aunt Shirley in Houston. She's my late father's sister who will be 90 this year! Mind is still sharp, but they won't let her drive any more - she quit that at 85. Heck, they'll probably ground me a lot earlier than that! Anyway, this package - it really was a large box - contained an old bowl-back mandolin. It had belonged to my grandfather, who, according to Aunt Shirley, did not know how to play it, and probably won it in a poker game! But it is in great shape, relatively, and she wanted me to have it, as she had planned on taking up the harp in her after-life. (Her words, in essence.) I took it to a couple of local guitar shops and a guy at the first place said, "Oh yeah! That's one o' them tater bugs!" I said, "Huh?". He said again, "That's one of them tater bugs!" So I did hear him right, though he didn't know where the name came from. At the next shop, they were a lot more kno...