i started off the day looking at a couple of flawed acoustics up in the berkeley hills, an old 50’s gibson and a newer fender. then i drove down claremont and wound up at 51st and telegraph, in the pawnbroking shop of my former landlord, saul gevertz. i played a yamaha that was really very nice, and had a nice haggling session to boot, but told the guys i would be back and needed to think about it.
then i went to guitar center el cerrito and played every single guitar in the acoustic room. i picked up this one, a gibson songwriter deluxe, and everything just fell into place. made in bozeman montana, where i spent part of my childhood. so. fucking. good. it makes my heart hurt it’s so sweet.
UPDATE: this is the best acoustic guitar i have played. period. this reviewer apparently had the same experience i’m having. it’s hard to keep my nose out of the sound hole, because the wood smells so good.
UPDATE 2: i took her over to the gallery and plugged into the system and played until i busted a string. (about 3 hours). with the eq flat, it is the cleanest, tastiest acoustic/electric i have played. even with the ungodly sound pressure level of a dance club sound system, i was unable to get feedback until i turned one of the 15″ mackie subs to full and practically straddled it with the guitar in my hands.
every once in a while i’m going to click on this link for inspiration.
this hack for firefox really speeds the performance of the browser noticeably. i am purely psyched.
mj and i were planning on going on a late afternoon sail today, but as the hour approached the rss feed for the national weather service kept spitting out more and more dire warnings, so we scrapped that plan and opted instead to check out some video on demand over at her place, with matt, the lead developer of wordpress, the software i use for this blog.
we watched “the life and death of peter sellers”, which was pretty interesting. the most brutally twisted moment comes when geoffery rush, playing sellers, announces he is divorcing his wife, and is asked by his young daughter “do you still love us daddy?” and he answers “of course i do sweetheart… just not as much as i love sophia loren.” this right after sophia loren has completely shut down his advances and told him to go home to his wife.
i sealed some holes in the deck where water was getting in, then sat for the rest of the afternoon with my guitar and pen in front of the space heater i bought.
it’s pouring in berkeley, and i have to go down to the boate and seal the new blocks i installed on the deck. the bilge is probably filled with rainwater by now too, so i’ll have to pump that out. i’m going to go buy a small space heater first, pack up the guitar, notebook and pen, and ipod, then have a go at some lyrics. i’d forgotten about this song. nice. and this is a pretty cool vid from the epoxies (via jwz’s dna lounge updates).
today would have been my dad’s 67th. or, i suppose i should say it is his 67th, in light of the story i am about to relate.
two days ago when we were up in ojai, my dad’s best friend chuck called on bret’s cel. he had some interesting news: he had spoken with my father recently. now, this was a fairly hilarious thing to hear initially, given the extreme skepticism that i know my dad had for anything that smacked of psychics and mysticism. also, i know that chuck, although i am sure he has had his share of out-of-body experiences, has also been a skeptic when it comes to “the woo-woo shit”. although i wanted to become a parapsychologist when i was 12 or so, i lean heavily towards disbelief myself.
given all this, chuck became acquainted through several friends with a man who claims to speak with the dead, and whose communications with them appeared, to these friends, to be spot on accurate, containing details no one could possibly have known, etc. figuring that a session was worth it for shits and giggles, he went to see the guy.
apparently my dad had to push some of the other people waiting to talk out of the way. it sounded like if there is such a thing as elbowing your way to the front of the crowd in the hereafter, my dad has learned how to do it. his first words? “i can’t fucking believe i’m doing this”. that sure sounds like my dad.
the session went on from there, and i suppose i will wait until i hear the tape of it before i decide for myself whether it is truly believable. from what chuck told me, it does sound like dad. and his advice is to spend more time playing with your toys. there is a heaven, and you don’t need to be religious to get in.
my dad told stories, he raced motorcycles, and he made cool things. and more cool things. and that’s not even close to the half of it. i still miss him enough to cry about it occasionally. like two days ago.
this duck was hanging out near the kitchen door of the french restaurant we went to for dinner. quietly quacking and drinking from a little puddle. brave little guy.
i am pretty ambivalent about the holiday, excepting the fact it is a celebration of toys and games and sitting around all day in pajamas. well, at least that’s primarily what it means to me now, which is exactly what it meant to me when i was a little kid and couldn’t fall asleep on this night because i was so excited to see what toys and games santa brought me. (it’s also pretty cool that the patron saint of the day is a fat drunk who wears pajamas at all times and carries on with reindeer and elves, and stuffs fat sacks down peoples’ chimneys for a living). i realized several years ago that a day dedicated to play was the only aspect of christmas that i had ever wholly enjoyed, and now i try to spend the day kicking back, indulging in pastimes as much as possible. and eating.
whatever your chosen activity for the day, may it be, in every sense of the word, a joyful holiday, a “day free from work that one may spend at leisure”.
mom got in last night. more painting today, including spreading on an “elastomeric, waterproofing and anti-fracture membrane” that went on like bubble-gum pink nail polish and dried the color of red cheese wax.
mom, in response to my post about her roses taking over the neighborhood, got out front with some snippers this afternoon.
ellen macarthur is trying to break the solo round-the-world record, and it looks like she’s on her way. here’s her route and a little profile. it’s a pretty exciting endeavor and website, as is her story.
and she has an rss feed. fucking rad!