Once, years ago, I signed up for some account on the Internet. I don’t remember what it was, a shopping account maybe, or a music site. Whatever it was, it has long since disappeared; replaced with something else I’m sure, something better, just like all the phones and computers I have left behind.

The first thing you need when you sign up for any account is a “user name.” The blank, flashing bar waits…  Username?  Password?  Who am I this time?  What is my secret?

That one, particular, special, now even historic time, I entered, “Fiddler,” fully expecting it was already taken by some, first-comer fiddler, but worth a try. I hit return. Just as I prophesied, “Denigned!

Then I took an inadvertent, lightning-quick, mental trip back to ‘70’s Television and the Waltons, and wrote, “FiddlerJoe.”  Nope.  Also taken!  

I took this second denial as a challenge.  I found myself prepared to fight; to create a monsterlongname, if necessary, if it was my true destiny, but when I wrote “FiddlerJoeBob,” it worked. 

If you turn up the sound you can enjoy the Vermont FiddlerJoeBob Echo.