The bigger the bedroom, the more stuff people will cram in there, but these were ridiculous. Worse, the way the place was designed, you could not put up a divider and create an extra spot. The walk-in closet alone is the size of a regular bedroom. No way he’ll be finished by next Wednesday by himself. Good thing he called in the hired help.But we got all the nooks and crannies done, the part that was slowing him down. Behind the fridge, the kitchen cabinets and closets with banks of railings. Of course, the talk most of the day was music, and let me tell you, with Bryne and I, it is same planet, different worlds. He feels what I want in a guitarist is stifling to creativity. I would agree if someone would please show me this so-called creative guitarist. I have only seen it a couple times in my life, and not very recently. All I hear are the Hendrix clones.
It is always an interesting perspective to learn how guitarists interpret my ads. Bryne feels that my request for “a country rhythm guitar player who enjoys playing classic country music” is not clear enough, and that I should learn to express myself better, you know, get to the point. I get the impression he feels the ad should read, “1970-ish Eagles-worshiping acid-rock Clapton-style shredder needed to come in and control my band”.
I take it in stride, because I’ve heard it all before. These people cannot imagine a world where a guitarist is merely another musician. They are easily offended when I suggest that it is the guitar that is in a supporting role, so I don’t go there. Bryne talks about the good old days when two passing guitarists strolled into his bar, took out their 12-strings and played “Hotel California” like it "was never played before". I asked him if he’d ever had the same experience with any two other instruments, and he replied, “Of course not.” (Silly me, but I think secretly think that old two passing guitars fable is a crock of shit.)
I’m not saying he’s wrong, in fact, he is just like almost every other guitar player. Their standards are so high they remain unemployed. But unless they are given a free hand to dictate what the band performs, they’d rather not play. For me, that is not an option. The most curious effect, however, is their collective denial of my solo bass act, they can’t take it seriously. These are guitarists who have seen the 5-Oh-5 video and some who have seen my show live, but still don’t believe it. They admit they saw it, but you can tell they don’t really believe it is possible, there has to be a trick that they just haven't figured out yet.
Another thing I’ve noticed is their touchiness when I refer to “my band”. They have no trouble calling a band their own, but don’t like it when a non-guitarist does the same. That’s "guitaritis", the mental condition where the guitar player sees all other musicians as his support staff, as the unwashed masses. Bryne is touchy about my having my own song list--and he isn't even in my band.
Speaking of egos, I see in the New Times, there is an article about Space Hippie World Wide Ministries. Their gospel is, no peeking, the legalization of medical marijuana. I have no idea if it is my old guitar player, but if so, it makes sense. The guy has no medical conditions treatable by smoking drugs. These people are dope heads whose true agenda is the decriminalization of recreational narcotics. Nor is there a humanitarian motive, the guy I know cares about nobody but himself, but that is to be expected. After all, he’s a guitarist, and he loves the ballads. The moaner, droner, groaners.
Author's note 2015-06-16: in the end, Bryne disappeared. I had his phone number on the cell that got stolen in the library a short time later, and the guy seems to have moved on. It was interesting to talk to the guy because he had absolutely no realization of how wrapped up he was in the whole "guitar-player-as-God" mentality. We were not arguing, but it was an eye-opener to me how extreme some guitar players will drink their own bath water. He felt my ad was unclear not because it specified what I wanted, but because it did not specify what the guitar player wanted. I had not yet learned of the Broward guitar Mafia.
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