
Some of the other offerings are bewildering. Labeled variously as double, twin, dual, or two-neck, the prices swing wildly as well. There is a 2007 Gibson on eBay for $52,000, which I presume would be for “serious” guitar players. Really serious, I mean, so serious it is hard to imagine. There’s a video of a guy playing both necks but you wouldn’t recognize it as guitar playing. He’s tapping the strings. If you’re going to play piano, dude, get a piano.
Ray-B and I had a music conference downtown and picked apart a dozen situations to our satisfaction. I gained knowledge of chord inversions in a pattern called “CAGED’ and Ray instantly grasped my policy of playing lead breaks through a chorus pedal. He was at the beach and saw a lot of single acts. Some are good, but I feel all will fail for two reasons. One, everybody will soon be doing it, causing price undercutting. And two, single acts have shot their bolt in this town—there are plain too damn many of them already.
This ties in with my conclusions about the difficulties of finding a decent guitarist in Florida. They form single acts because they don’t have what it takes to make it in any other type of group. It takes humility, you know, humbleness. They have to realize they are not living gods, that they are just one of a number of other people on stage. Some twenty guitar players later, I am nearly convinced this is the lone over-riding feature of every failed one of them in this town. There is a reason Florida is a place where you meet musicians who only get one or two gigs a year.

Mel, my newest music contact, is totally country. We’ve exchanged basic song lists, and although she knows the classics, she’s a fan of tunes that, well you listen and decide. I know that Trick Pony is country, but every lick except for some of the guitar work is Chuck Berry. For example, “Pour Me”. Some of the artists I’ve heard for the first time, such as Lee Anne Womack. The videos are all image, but one thing I will give these country women: at least they haven’t crimped their hair, “hooker hair”, it’s called.
I spent the early morning with my Rice Krispies and listening to this music. The themes are laughable but light, so it fits the bill for drinking establishments. Like that Sugarland “Baby Girl”. Some of us don’t relate to the concept that times were so bad she had to write home for money. Poor li'l thang. Does it hurt her wittle wrist? But, I’ll play anything for money as long as I can stand it. That rules out ska.
Dumb bastard of the day award goes to Charlie Deaux, of Miami. He puts up an ad that says “Motorcycle for Sale”. That’s it. No year, no make, no model, no mileage, no displacement, no phone, no address. Maybe he sells to psychics only? Deaux. That probably says it all, know what I mean? A close runner-up goes to Best In Bass Guitars for one of the most screwed up sites in history. They advertise guitars, but don’t tell you how to contact the sellers. Also, they are not free because you have to sign up, but once you do, you can no longer view the bass ads.
Duh, they are probably wondering why business is so slow.