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dhanners623

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dhanners623 last won the day on August 18 2017

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About dhanners623

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  1. Would love one of the new LG-2s, but I fear my days of buying $2,500 guitars are over. For that niche, I'm playing a Farida OT-22, which I'm quite happy with. And of course my J-35....
  2. I always liked going in my local GC and asking if I could use a Fender-branded polish cloth on a Gibson....
  3. Thanks. I should note the Facebook thing isn't a competition. It is just a way to get songwriters to write. We're given a prompt -- either a word, phrase or a picture -- and then we write songs and post them. It is interesting to see what others come up with. Some of them are very creative and talented. I've edited the song yet again. (I edit a lot....) I checked with a buddy back home about the guy who used to come in late at night and cut his speed on my counter (even though I always told him not to) and he said the guy died in 2011, but had really cleaned up his life. He'd received a Purple Heart and other medals in Vietnam, but never told his family about them. They were unaware he'd done that until after he died. So I felt kinda bad about telling that bit of his life, and that got me thinking about the rest of the song. As written, it took place in the 1970s. That's a long time ago. I decided to put the song in the present, even though the gas station is no longer there. Also decided to do a countdown thing in the bridge to illustrate how the town is declining. (And actually, my hometown, after years of decline, is seeing a resurgence because a local businessman has started building huge things and getting them certified by Guinness as "World's Largest" and the town is now pulling in tourists like crazy.) Here is the current version: Work the graveyard at the Marvel station out on 49 This town’s a corpse when the sun goes down Wanted or wealthy, they’re all runnin’ on empty And pissed they have to stop in this drive-through town Sleepy crossroads in the corn and bean fields Halfway ‘tween St. Louis and Naptown Fill their tanks and without so much as a “thanks” They’re pullin’ out of this drive-through town (chorus) They say the economy’s booming, good times all around But good times never stop in this drive-through town Good times never stop in this drive-through town My buddy John comes out, grabs a quart from the cooler 2 a.m., he’s still tightly wound Purple Heart in Afghanistan, no longer gives a damn What people think about him in this drive-through town (chorus) (bridge) Four gas stations, three dollar stores Two groceries until the IGA closed down One stoplight at Central and Main Is one too many in a drive-through town All great stories are about a journey Or about a stranger comin’ to town Those who make their getaway seldom come back to stay And strangers blow right past this drive-through town Strangers blow right past this drive-through town
  4. Thanks for the kind words. Actually, there are a couple of different recording projects I'd like to do, but they'll probably have to wait until I move back tothe U.S. and I'm not really sure when that will be. There are studios in Nicosia, of course, but I don't know how hip they would be to recording me and there is zero outlet for me to market the record(s) here in Cyprus. There is a grand total of one coffeeshop I can play at, and even they weren't crazy about having me. I have retooled the lyrics. As always happens with early drafts, there were some lines that were bugging me. The current version: Pumped gas on the graveyard at Marvel out on 49 This town's a corpse when the sun goes down Wanted or wealthy, they were running on empty And pissed they had to stop in a drive-through town It's a sleepy place in the corn and bean fields Halfway 'tween St. Louis and Naptown I'd fill their tanks and without so much as a "thanks" They said goodbye to this drive-through town (chorus) They say the economy's booming, good times all around But good times never stop in a drive-through town Good times never stop in this drive-through town Doper John would come out, cut his speed on the counter Late at night when there were no cops around Just another guy whose engine coughed and died When he tried to leave this drive-through town (chorus) (bridge) All great stories are about a journey Or about a stranger comin' to town Those who leave never come back And strangers blow right past this drive-through town Read the pumps, count the oils Then go home and plop down on the couch Watch the TV 'tail I fall asleep Dream of leavin' this drive-through town Dream of leavin' this drive-through town Dream of leavin' this drive-through town
  5. Part of me agrees wholeheartedly and part of me is hesitant. On the one hand, if anybody can make a decent "budget" guitar, it ought to be Gibson and Martin. And once you get entry-level players hooked on what a good guitar can sound like, they'll save up their money (or go into debt...) and buy something higher-end -- hopefully from Gibson and Martin. The hesitant part of me, though, worries about diluting the brand. You don't see Rolls Royce or Ferrari making entry-level, no-frills automobiles. Part of me says Gibson and Martin should leave the less-expensive guitars to others, and concentrate on their mid- to upper-end models. Then again, I've never been accused of being a businessman. Gibson (and Martin, to a lesser degree) has made missteps through the years, but they are both still in business and both still building some great guitars.
  6. I'm part of a Facebook songwriting challenge in which we're given a prompt every couple of weeks and write a song from it. The first prompt of the year is "drive-thru." Once you get past telling someone they broke your heart or declaring tomorrow will be the First Day of the Rest of Your Life, “drive-through town” -- i.e., a town nobody stops in unless they have to -- is about as cliche a concept as you can get for a song. A quick look online shows others have shoveled their own cliches on the pile. But I grew up in a drive-through town and Woody Guthrie told us, “Write what you know” so I did. Years ago, I worked graveyard at the Marvel filling station on Illinois Route 49 north of my hometown. It was dull work. In fact, my predecessor got fired for sleeping on the job. Along about 1 a.m., he’d kill the lights, go in the back room and nap. His upended circadian rhythm was my gain. I got people driving home from bars, the occasional lost soul or people who avoided interstates. They exist. We had gas, oil and vending machines that seldom worked. One of our signature products was a fuel additive named Marvel Mystery Oil. I was intrigued people would entrust their engine to a product with the word “Mystery” in its name; It just seemed to be asking for trouble. People swore by it, though. One of the regulars was a local who came in every couple of weeks and used my countertop to cut up his speed. I surmised he found the lighting helpful. I’d go out to fill somebody’s tank and come back in and he’d have his illicit product all over my counter. I’d shoo him away, but he always came back. I once suggested he call it, “Marvel Mystery Speed,” but he said the word “Mystery” would introduce an unwanted air of uncertainty in the mind of the consumer. Exactly. The line in the chorus, “Good times never stop in a drive-through town” can be interpreted two completely different ways — Either the good times never end, or they just pass through town without stopping. I’m unsure if this wordplay is a feature or a defect, but we’re advised to just write and post, so here, without further ado, is “Drive-Through Town.” I'm playing my J-35, strung with Martin Monel mediums. Drive-Through Town © 2020 by David Hanners Worked the graveyard at Marvel out on 49 This town’s a corpse when the sun goes down Drunks and night-owls, strangers passing through Pissed they had to stop in a drive-through town They’d buy gas, a quart of Mystery Oil Ask how far to St. Louis or Nap Town Pay their cash, tail lights fade to black Gettin’ the hell out of this drive-through town (chorus) They say things are booming, good times all around But good times never stop in this drive-through town Good times never stop in this drive-through town John Floyd’d come out and cut up his speed Late at night when there were no cops around Just a guy whose engine sputtered and died On his way out of this drive-through town (chorus) (bridge) They say all great stories are about a journey Or about a stranger comin’ to town But those who leave here always come back And strangers blow right past this drive-through town Sun comes up, another shift done I’ll go home, lay down on the couch Watch some TV until I fall asleep Dream of leavin’ this drive-through town (chorus) The video: https://youtu.be/lPRNgJ3ltwg
  7. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, how much money do they save by not painting the headstock faceplate and using those #%€£?!*@ ugly Grover tuners instead of more historically accurate open-geared white-button tuners?
  8. Townes Van Zandt said the instrumentation has to serve the song. You've certainly done that. You have more tolerance for a studio than I do, though. When I'm recording (and it certainly has never been at your level) I just wanted to get in and get out. It wasn't a question of money and studio time, it was just that I'd rather be anywhere else. I have a good friend who takes forever to record his records. It is because he hears a lot of music in his head and it takes awhile to make it a reality in a studio. What he comes up with is great, even innovative, but spending that long making the sausage would drive me bananas.
  9. Great job! Well-written (sorry for what you had to go through to write it...) and the arrangement fits the song. As others have said, I hope this gets the attention it deserves.
  10. Edited the song (heavily) and did some rewriting. Here is where it stands now:
  11. Thanks! The song is still trying to find itself. The version I'm toying with now is four verses, no chorus, but I may go back to a chorus. It takes awhile for a song to figure itself out....
  12. Thanks for the kind words, all. When we move back to the U.S., I may record an album or two. I don't see much use recording them in Cyprus; all the musicians I want to work with are back in the U.S., and if I released a CD here, I doubt I would sell a single copy. I have since revised the song. Decided it needed a chorus. Haven't recorded the new version yet, but here are the revised lyrics. I'm cutting and pasting the lyrics, so I apologize for the big type. When I was a child we’d drive to Terre Haute Take Route 40 then Old National Road Right before National hit Paris Avenue That big trash dump would come into view Old tires smoldered, brown haze made you choke Roll up the windows and hold your nose I did not understand how people lived around that Dad’d say, “It’s West Terre Haute, they’re not aristocrats” (Chorus) Women with hard eyes spoke with few words Their husbands bought Falstaff on the way home from work Some say hard times are just a test But the people who say that always live someplace else West Terre Haute had been a coal mining town When the coal played out, things spiraled down Whitewashed buildings had seen better days Now it was where others threw stuff away Wives in housecoats hung wash on the line You got the feeling they were just doing time Serving their sentence in tumble-down homes Near the trash dump fire in West Terre Haute (chorus) That fire burned years, land and air were corrupt Burned ‘til the Feds made them clean it all up Trucked in topsoil, Lord knows what they spent They have flea markets there now on summer weekends
  13. No, the song's not about politics... When I was a kid growing up in East Central Illinois, we'd sometimes go to Terre Haute to go shopping. Before the advent of I-70, to get to Terre Haute from my hometown, you took Route 40, which took you through West Terre Haute, one of the sorriest zip codes on the planet. The place was run down and just did not project an air of success. On the east edge of town, there was a big trash dump, and it always seemed like it was smoldering. The smell was horrible. I have no idea why, but the dump came to mind the other day and I started writing, and this song is the result. (Since filming the video, I tweaked a couple of lines, as noted in the lyrics.) I'm playing my '16 J-35, strung with Martin Monel mediums that have been on there awhile. Thanks for listening, and happy Thanksgiving! Trash Dump Fire © 2019 by David Hanners When I was a child we’d drive to Terre Haute Take Route 40 then Old National Road Right before National hit Paris Avenue That big trash dump would come into view Old tires smoldered, brown haze made you choke Roll up the windows and hold your nose I could not understand how people lived ‘round that Dad’d say, “It’s West Terre Haute, they’re not aristocrats” West Terre Haute had been a coal mining town Coal played out, things spiraled down Buildings and people had seen better days Now it was where others threw stuff away That fire burned years, land and air were corrupt Burned ‘til the Feds came in and made them clean it up Trucked in topsoil, Lord knows what they spent They have flea markets there now on some weekends They say hard times are just a test But the people who say that always live someplace else If I were rich, I would’ve bought me a boat Slipped her into the Wabash and left West Terre Haute
  14. I'm no expert, but I've always felt you should fit the pins to the holes and not the other way around. When I had my J-45, I stuck StewMac slotted ebony pins in it without any trouble. On my J-35, I replaced the stock injection-molded plastic pins with machined camel bone pins. Whichever pins you go with, make sure you angle the tips: https://www.stewmac.com/How-To/Trade_Secrets/Chopping_the_ends_off_bridge_pins.html
  15. Congratulations! That is one drool-worthy guitar....
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