Guitar Nostalgia

First thing this morning I stumbled across this post on Facebook:
What a totally unexpected gift to see this great picture of one of my favorite guitars from way back when.

Bob mostly played rhythm guitar in Dirty Art, but only because I was really into the kind of metal popular in the early '80s. When we played Stones songs and other bluesier fare, he was the man on lead.
A few years older than I was, he went on to have a solid career and I'll always appreciate what he taught me.

I had completely forgotten about his being the only other person to play my doubleneck onstage, but the memory came right back when I saw this--I'm just astonished that he had a photo of the moment.
That guitar was amazing and got me a lot of attention.
I miss it dearly but now that the rest of the world knows what I knew way back then about 1970s Ibanez guitars, they are priced out of my reach. Last one I saw on Craigslist was priced at $1100, which is fair but too much for nostalgia's sake.

On the other hand...
Because it only saw limited use the 6-side got new strings every other week and the 12 once a month. My main guitars and basses have always gotten new strings weekly (or more often) when playing live or recording.
On those days when I had to change eighteen strings, it was a major blow to my wallet and spare time--don't miss that at all!


I have a set of new GHS Boomers for my bass, to be installed this coming Tuesday night:

After playing in Ft. Worth and Houston this year, Austin seems like a local gig.
Hooka Hey is a really cool band from Paris France, and the other acts on the bill are probably flattering non-specific comment because I haven't done my research.

Homeward Bound

Rather last-minute, my brother and I drove to Clarksville Tennessee for Thanksgiving.
We grew up in San Antonio and upstate New York, but no matter where we were living our true second home was always in the woods along the Cumberland River.
For a month at a time in the summers, or when life was handing us lemons, that's where we went to reconnect with family and the earth.
Our uncle schooled us in hunting and fishing, taking our late father's place.
The herd of cousins (all older than me) schooled us in smoking, rock albums, sneaking out, and according to the stories--playing doctor.
We were tight, and it was a shame that Ken and I hadn't managed to go back in 20 years.
Mainly we went to see our aunt.
Words can't describe what she means to us.



The drive up was rough.
18 hours non-stop.

Gridlock in Austin, of course:



Same thing in Belton or Round Rock or whatever:


Not too bad in Salado, but that probably didn't last long:
In fact, it was stop-and-go from Austin to Waco.
NEVER drive IH35 on the day before Thanksgiving if you can help it.
Always heard it was bad, but this was my first time.
Wow.


Once we could open it up, the miles flew by fairly quick.
Here's the rented Mazda 3 at a pitstop somewhere in west Arkansas:
Nice little car.
Fast, with nimble handling in the twisty back roads later in the trip.
35 mpg--a big help.



Crossing the Mississippi River into Memphis--the beginning of the end:
Had I not been driving, could have messed with the GPS app on my phone to find a better route for the home stretch. As it was, we spent a lot of extra time going 30 mph through small towns and hitting tons of red lights and stop signs.
Lesson learned, and I managed to improve the results on the way home somewhat although the final tweak wasn't made until just before navigation went back to big signs over the highway. That's what we deserved for not even bringing a map.

I had never used any kind of GPS before, and at times it was wonderful.
Even bombing down IH35 on the way home it was cool to have a constantly updated ETA.
Just should have practiced with it before leaving to learn the quirks and traps of a free phone app.



More to come...