Doc Bill Ruger fell awake. He began to think of the things he needed to get done today.. There was new grass to be watered. Thank you cards to design and print. Guitar to play. And he and the new missus were all out of bacon.
He also knew he wanted to do something about The Forum. Recent contentiousness had ripped a hole in the collective wa, chi and mojo. He knew also that he was part of the blame, as he walked a line between feeding and ignoring the trolls. He had risen to the bait only to, as usual, realize that he should have just let the stupidity pass him by. He needed a distraction. Hell, The Forum needed a distraction.
He decided to invite his fellow members Les and Sergio (and any other members) to join him in another Forum-based contributive story. But, as usual for Doc Ruger, his mind wandered.
He was thinking about the 'beat' two musical notes produced. The 'beat' of course was the result of different wavelength sound waves alternately acting to reinforce and destruct one another. Some intervals produced a pleasing beat to the ear like a third or a perfect fifth and some were jarring like a minor second or a string that was a few cents out of tune with it's neighbor.
Whenever Doc Ruger was without a tuner (exceedingly rare these days since he almost always had his iPhone handy), he would tune using those interference beats. He had done that for most of his guitar playing days since he was in High School, not having access to real tuners until the past 10 years or so.
So Doc Ruger was thinking about sound wave beats when he logged onto The Forum. He almost forgot all about the beats as he read Sergio's latest thread.
He realized that Sergio was unparagoned in his Google quest for big words, that is if Doc Ruger discounted himself and that Sergio, Les and he could easily be sesquipedalian enough to bore the living excrement out of their fellow Forum members to the point where, semi-comatose, all they could think of or write about would be the upcoming gathering of the faithful abbreviated as XPRS13 (like some unlikely guitar gang) and Private Stock Friday. That is unless the membership was more prone to lapse into periods of being saxicolous.
So, as he was beginning to type, Doc Ruger was startled to hear the phone ring....