One year ago today: November 8, 2022, the house is gone.
Five years ago today: November 8, 2018, via Newnam, Georgia.
Nine years ago today: November 8, 2014, a degree in physics.
Random years ago today: November 8, 2020, they are after Trump still.
Here’s something. The company that became WeWork that cost me my last job back in 2004, has filed for bankruptcy. These Internet businesses expand like blazes while times are good but fail to create strategic reserves. This is the outfit at contracted out the accounting department I worked for at 1/3 the rate they were paying us. (I was prepared and just moved on, not so much the others.) There’s a meme about how Tonka trucks were once made of metal instead of plastic. I remember the same about Ford. Good morning, the first one after I’m adjust back from daylight time. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. And it is a cool 60°F.
Here is my work with the lock miter bit. This photo shows that even when perfectly centered, there is still a small lip on the top and bottom that causes a mis-alignment. Snapping that lip off doesn’t work well. I need pieces that fit together without further treatment. The router is still acting up. With replacement prices out of reach, I’m going to have a stab at repairing it myself. There is an intermittent open, possibly caused by some safety mechanism. Next is a photo of the new drawer. It’s from an old chest and I found a metal tag on the interior.
These price out at over $200, so it’s good I got them for free at the used paint place. I’ve taken a liking to the “satin” finishes, both matte and glossy, and have tried various applications. The best, to me, is the gloss over a darker stain. You can imagine my shed is now filling up with all kinds of older boxes that now have wonderful finishes. Even the tiny boxes from when I had only a small scroll saw are now gleaming and shiny. I’ve also learned that even if few people look, finish the bottoms and backs of all boxes. Here’s some of the boxes that got fancy long after they were slapped together.
Cockatoo Island campsite.
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How nice to work quietly in silence. I thought you had to be a rich artist to do that (when I was younger). I have not heard that train whistle in years and would not if I was asleep. It’s from the freight line east of Mulberry, nice and far away. I watched a few how-to clips and the really thick finishes are poured, not brushed. I’m not ready for that. I took the router apart and soaked the innards in WD-40. The problem was once again that interlock system with the spindle. Sadly, I know of no way to dismantle that without busing the plastic piece, which I did.
This photo shows a close-up of the culprit. I’m pointing to the switch, which is now in my spare parts drawer. And here is the short video of applying the poly to the speaker box. It proved quite popular, so let’s give it a nice spot here.
ADDENDUM
The following is not required reading.
The jam session this evening raised a lot of non-musical questions and that did not go well. Bottom line is that many guitar players spot what is going on and don't like it. They are friendly enough at the introduction and right up to the first moment they hear me begin to play an instrumental break on the bass. Most, but not all, of them go into a funk and get a scowl that will not go away. Such was tonight, though it was only one guy. Some 260 pound archetypical old-old-old school bruiser looking sort. The two other guitar players (Keith & Bradford) got up and played some tunes but after hearing me play, that new guy just sat there glaring. For two hours.
So he does the no-no of moving other people’s cases to a nearby bar table. I walk in the door and wonder what my case is doing on a table and grab it, which knocks over Bradford’s beer, which is behind it. He has a 35’ guitar cord, which must be coiled up or it gets all over the stage. He plunks it in front of my amp and it took me five minutes chasing around to find my own cord underneath it. Where he had stepped on it and now my newest, most expensive cord crackles. Here’s a clip of Bradford getting up and standing in front of my camcorder for the entire time we played the one tune that evening I wanted to get recorded. It was our best sound yet. The jury is still out whether Bradford does these things on purpose. Just 20 minutes earlier, I had him set the camera in place for me and made sure it was centered on the stage.
The other guitar player was unfamiliar with a PA system being a bass rig. The Prez & I run all instruments and microphones though my PA, but because my speaker now looks like an amp, he thinks it sounds funny. Guitar players have that quirk, that it is important things look right according to themselves.
The host and the sour-puss know each other. Once again, the Prez & I played the majority of the show—always, I stress always by request only. This is now week three and our sound is truly meshing, it is certainly much smoother. There is no substitute for being on stage and there are now people in the audience who know and like our style. The newcomer guitar player was not one of them. After a few tunes it was evident he absolutely refused to get on stage with us. I’ll get back to that.
Brad got up and played “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”. He had played three tunes with us earlier (including where we showed him that E chord) but as a solo, he had one song ready. As you may know I have for years intentionally made false moves and fake motions when I play—so guitar players can’t pretend to know a song. (It was that at first, I discovered by-and-by this action had great audience appeal.) I’ve done this so long now I can’t play any other way and poor Brad got bamboozled both barrels. He even got off stage (the 35’ cord again) and faced the band, but still could not follow by watching me. I play that entire song (Peaceful Easy) by pretending I’m fingering an A chord. Threw him off completely, but hey.
The host guy again forgot the list he promised. Thus, he misses opportunities to play as a group. He learned on day one not to teach on stage or he will get the same treatment back. But tonight that glowering pal of his was the prevailing effect on the show. Here’s what happened. For the last 20 minutes, Bradford got on stage and noodled random guitar chords, it seems he has forgotten most the material he formerly memorized. I spotted this back in 2016, that he was doing this and now, well, it sounded like he hasn’t kept up. There were a couple strange ladies came in and sat at the back. Then just after 9:00PM as we packed up our gear, our concession lady came in and joined them. Ah, the wives of the guitar players, there is a pattern unfolding.
Remember the sidewalk band? During the carnival, they played in front of her café, now I know the guy. Sandi has mentioned him but I was not impressed by their music, although it is technically quite polished, it is totally guitar-centric. No way would that guy get on stage with a singing bass player who could front the show, now it makes sense. After all our gear was packed away, then he gets up and plays with the ladies doing the singing. Aha, he can’t sing. And, he was playing studio riffs, that’s where he plays exactly what is on the recording even if it does not fit or sound right in a solo setting.
What’s more, it is very clear our act is professional and rehearsed. We move and smile, and know plenty about stage dynamics now. By comparison, that guitar player was an inert mass, barely moving and trying to impress with his studio-sound. He is a very accomplished studio guitarist. No wonder he did not dare make his move until we were packed up. Who did the singing? Sandi, and one of the wives, and what I think is Keith’s daughter, if so she has lost a lot of weight and I’m no good recognizing women who do that.
Sandi is great, the others almost so. I cannot compete with chick singers, I don’t even try. I would point out this (Sandi singing) was after the jam session was finished. I stuck around for the better part of the next hour, that is, until 10:00PM. They quickly ran out of material and after three or four tunes had to read lyrics off their smart phones. I’m okay with that but think it detracts from paying attention to the crowd, an important factor of my presentation.
Another part of my show is keeping guitar players on a short leash, so forget ever working with that new guy tonight. He don’t like things at all. He was further not happy-looking about how we played tunes that did not fit his pre-conceived concept of what duos play. If looks and comments mean anything, both them guitar players hate it when we play “Hot Dog”.
And when he did, he prudently stayed sitting right where he was until we were finished. Only then did he pull his stunt, which he only got away with by enlisting the hired help who, from what I saw, could care less if it was him or any other guitar player. He thought he was going to show up and teach us a lesson, and instead brought up the rear. Methinks next carnival, it will be the Prez & I doing Sandi’s sidewalk show. Why, tomorrow, I think I’ll stop in for coffee at her counter and pick up her song list. I know when the other guy is playing hardball. While you can’t win with these people trying to appease them, you can make sure they have no impact on your situation. If the Prez & I continue, expect more of these guitar-player-inspired antics.
