October 27, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 27, 2022, recovery mode.
Five years ago today: October 27, 2018, food begins disappearing.
Nine years ago today: October 27, 2014, the “Mexican Airport” idea.
Random years ago today: October 27, 2008, cell phone coupons, ha!

           Neat, we are already getting feedback on the feedback. And that means criticism, but folks, I wasted too much time trying to please vocalists and guitarists instead of the correct people, namely the audience. I sent clips immediately to the Kaiser in Tennessee because he was never sure why his style of acoustic playing was such a focus when we rehearsed. My sound is “amateur” because I spent years chasing that sound. You know the Prez & I put in two months detuning arrangements down to our specific acoustic and bass duo presentation.

           I fully intend to keep it at that level. Save perfection for the recording studio, we will soon find a paying club and that was my goal from the start. What’s more, I see next Wednesday shaping up just fine. We were the only act prepared to play anything but our top material—and I know that is precisely what the guitar players are doing and why I took aim on besting that tactic. The Prez & I have slated Sunday for learning ace accompaniment to two Eagles tunes, which I normally avoid, but you figure out why this time. (“Tequila Sunrise” and “Peaceful Easy Feeling”.)
           There is no word from the source I want but anybody who was there saw we were the only band ready-to-go. This is the fancy box, not a repeat of y’day’s pic, just the same angle. It now has a dry coat of pecan stain. That is just a chopstick holding the lid while drying. Some of the hardware is removed. The interior now has a faint pine aroma and not shown is a small chain that holds the lid when open. It’s tricky to see, but I’m pointing to a that one screw hole that was off alignment, now plugged and soon to be redrilled for cosmetics.

           The issue of “right to repair” is igniting again and so is my burn barrel. This is the very last of the stumps and logs, a six hour burn while I worked around the yard. I even cleared up some of the back area and worked the wheelbarrow, since I had to keep an eye on the barrel. The right to repair is not going to help many people who have lost the ability to repair anything, really. What’s more, unless manufacturers are forbidden to gouge for replacement parts, the problem will continue.

           Around six of the videos of individual tunes from the jam session are now available. See, now the value of learning techniques instead of tunes begins to pay off. We were joking about inviting the host to join us at his own show. You see, the videos showed how he left out the intros and breaks on all his songs and had trouble following the band who played it right. The shoe is on the other foot and that’s two guitarists who botched when they had to play the same thing as the rest of the band.
           The videos show two important developments. We already have what they call “a sound” and something I like—it would be impossible for the average solo guitar act to copycat our show. I’ve had that happen too many times with good ideas and this one was planned to be difficult to clone. It’s fun watching the videos because we are never playing the same thing at the same time. It keeps the music fun, as well, because you can hear your part is much more than an added layer.

           While I’ve gotten to this point with other guitar players, none have embraced the concept or learned it as rapidly. In fact, I had reactions like Lady Nik, who figured playing this way was keeping her from becoming the celebrity she deserved to be. Something you might find peculiar is I have staunch critics on my music list, including good old Bryne in Texas. His take is total 1900s band, made up of at least five members, each of whom is a self-styled expert backing up the master Guitar-God front man. Bryne don’t take no lip from no low-life drummers or bass players and Bryne has never been in a successful band—but he remembers what a great job they did of not making it.

Picture of the day.
Assateague Island.
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           Where was I? Oh yes, Bryne. He’s sarcastically asked if now all 3/4/5 piece groups will now trim the excess and embrace my new simple sound. Ha, but he knows that is apples and oranges, that I never set out to form a band of recording stars. True, he scoffs the recordings I sent as limited even though he knows I’ve opted for the minimalist. My concept of success is performing, not recording and he is aware I’ve achieved my goal repeatedly while I have yet to hear recording of his playing. There you go.

           He’s a victim of guitar-think, which I know because I was myself once infected. You have to want to be cured. (He’s got it so bad he cannot hear the bass in the records I sent even though the bass is the same volume as the guitar.) Be aware that I value his opinions and more than once he has kept me on an even keel when dealing with other guitarists. Bryne will always call any report of non-guitar success as egotistical but that’s part and parcel. In return, I get to point out that I reach my goals while the guitar experts do “whatever it is such people do when they’ve failed at 50 bands in 50 years”. You know, the burn barrel is down to glowing ashes so I might do what I just advised Bryne to do. Namely, go downtown and chat up a skirt half his age, just for the practice.

           Later, I was downtown long enough to write a letter to Hersh about the jam session. That’s about an hour. Wilford was there, who was not at the jam but heard all the news. He went to on of Bradford’s semi-famous jams himself and said same thing happened when he tried to play “Wagon Wheel” with another musician. You’ve likely seen this before, people that can expertly sing or play along to the recording but shmuck up when the subconscious cues they rely on are removed. My laugh is that Bradford has been playing that tune for decades.
           I was expecting the usual Friday live entertainment and there was none. Last Fridays are a big night for the club and they advertised “The Wanted Band” from the north side [of Lakeland]. This is a hard business and they were a no show, which is where my interest begins. You see, the same barmaid who heard us Wednesday could have given us a quick call. But knowing that lady, it is entirely possible the thought never hit her. But, this chain of events is not over yet, so patience is the word.
      That band is four older guys following the ancient tradition of the century past. A drummer, bassist, and acoustic player gathered in a semi-circle paying homage to the all-great guitarist-lead player with his Stratocaster and eight effects pedals. And a song list of Eagles, Young, Clapton, Knopfler, and not much else.

           This is a photo of the papaya tree, showing how it sheds leaves fairly constantly. There are four about to drop and yes, they make a mess. Now Wilford reports he has some sprouted avocado plants he says can replace my lost budlings, the ones the raccoon feasted on. I did not know that avocados need both sexes to produce fruit and nobody knows how to tell if the trees he’s got are male or female. Since I had only planned on two of my trees making it, we’ve come up with a plan. He’ll drop off the two best looking ones and that gives us a 25% (not 50%) of one each. See, I knew there was a reason I cleared that space in the far back yard.

           In other news, we have an e-mail from Agt. M and he’s feeling depressed. However, despair is not an option for robot club alumni, so we will undertake some morale-boosting actions. In a nutshell, his now expanded family has made him the husband and he misses the days of working on his car only when he felt like it. However, remember the fund set for his eldest, now entering pre-school? It has fulfilled its intentions though some might say it “failed”. No, it was to have a basis for comparison to what other people do. I’d be surprised if anyone got it right the first time.
           He’s learned valuable lessons about protecting that investment. You get a month behind, it takes three months to catch up, and even then only by dedicated people willing to throw in the effort. He’s aware of the awful temptations to “borrow” and a dozen other pitfalls you don’t know unless you get well into the program. He many not realize how far he’s made it just by the fact the fund still exists.

Last Laugh

(I know this isn't a political blog but I could not resist this one.)