This is one of those “what-is-it?” pictures. That’s my neighbor, Adam, holding a piece of musical equipment. However, it has been modified based on field experience. It is impossible to guess what it is from this picture but I thought I’d give you a chance to try. Imagine that it is solving a problem I’ve mentioned before.
It is a good thing there is plenty of flexibility built into my way of operating, because Florida did everything it could today to slow me down. It doesn’t take long to spot that being efficient bothers the locals most where you have successfully sidestepped their interference. Determined not to get sold another bogus battery volume pedal, I did some extremely careful shopping. There are a whole array of products labeled volume pedals which are no such thing, particularly this Yamaha pedal that plugs into a keyboard using a standard phono plug, but which works only on that instrument.I decided on an Ernie Ball which is vastly better than what I had before. It was pricey at $101. It has a metal case and does the job. While loading up for the gig, I spotted Guitar Johnny’s Roland cube amp. He’d left it in my car! [Exclamation mine, as this is a big deal for a musician, you know.) It blended in perfectly with my equipment. He’s so new in town nobody knows him and he’d never find his own way back to Jimbo’s. Thinking fast, I dropped in at Jake’s, Wiley’s, Blarney, Moonshadow, Boston Johnny’s and all the places on Harrison, leaving messages for “anyone who looks like they just got in from California”. It worked, and he walked into Jimbo’s at 11:00 tonight.
At which point he promptly hits on every gal in the place, including the owner. I dispel any false hopes, she told him he was welcome to come back and play guitar any time—with me. He still plays a lot of “original rock and roll”, but like the blues, if it is really original, how come I can follow it? Just kidding. Like all groups I’ve started in my life, and now my group of one, old country music eventually becomes a big factor. Don’t get me wrong, I pretty much hate country and spent a lot of time finding the exceptions. My repertoire is now 49% country despite efforts to hold it at 40%.
[Author's note 2017: Guitar Johnny is the same person as California Johnny. He disappeared after receiving a huge lump sum of government money for his war injuries.]
We did a major one hour jam. He has to fly back to California for a few months but he wants to learn my material when he returns. He says he’s never seen a bass player like me, but I tend to hear that a lot from people who bother to shut up long enough to listen to what I do. Tony, the Gibson guy, came down with a major head cold and he was just too rough to even drop by. It was so dead, during a break, we walked up to Boston Johnny’s for a look. (Turns out they are the ones who recognized Guitar Johnny and sent him over.) It was dead there too.
That thing used for holding a harmonica around your neck, which I call a “cradle” is now called a “harmonica holder”, it costs $15 and doesn’t have any instructions. This would not be bad except for the fact that there are at least four different ways a harmonica can be clipped into the device. Only the computer era could come up with a no-brainer like that.
I’ve gotten a few more compliments for both my singing (never thought that would happen) and the evolution of my little musical adventure. It was pretty shaky eight months ago but things have changed out of all recognition, my act totally focuses around bass lines. Guitar Johnny realized that any lead breaks he does have to be added in. Karaoke is still foreign to me, if only because the teleprompter is often badly located, forcing one to sing toward itself rather than the audience. The market for what I do is small, but untapped. Last evening I even got a request for “Running Bear”.
To explain a misunderstanding, when people say “catching the southbound” in this town, they are not referring to hopping the trains which roar down Dixie Hwy day and night. Constantly. They mean driving their vehicle beside the train. The traffic lights are synched along Dixie while the train passes, so that is the fastest you will ever get across this town.ADDENDUM
And the answer to what-is-it?
The picture is a wireless microphone with ordinary soft artist’s erasers crazy-glued to the base. This is my solution to preventing the mics from rolling off the table. It hasn’t stood the test of time. Then again, the cost was $1. And I still have four erasers left, in case I can ever afford another mic.
To this day, nobody can be sure if the erasers fell off or if Michael was eating them.
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