ksdaddy

I never joined either. Missed the draft by a couple years. I took my ASVAB and wanted to go in as an auto mechanic. The Navy wanted me to be inside a nuclear sub. Nope. No sub here. Too much of a home body anyway, didn't want to leave familiar surroundings. I regret it now. My brother was in the army and told me to stay away from it. My brother isn't known for giving me the best guidance OR following authority so... My wife was in the army (long before I met her) and loved it. The other side of the coin. My step daughter won a Voice of Democracy speech contest and ended up going to the national competition (quickly eliminated there). Along the path from local win to state win, we attended several functions with her and encountered countless ex-military. When they found out my wife served, they scooped her up on their shoulders. When they found I did not, I got silence and faces that just realized they stepped in dog s___.

Yep, ES-125TD with changed tuners, bridge, added jack plate ( likely to cover a rip-out of the original), and the neck has been reset, judging by the two plugged holes on the back near the neck heel where they shot steam in to soften the glue. Look inside for another number inside, if you can see any. Models such as these didn’t typically have serial numbers on the back of the headstocks until around ‘62 or so, but you might find a factory order number inside. If you held a gun to my head I would date this as a 1960. Let’s see how close I am.

It will either not matter at all to someone who loves the guitar or it will be worthless to someone who likes things left alone.

It's untweetable.

Doesn't look right to me. Tuners and nut have both been changed too.

It's quite plain to see that the model number was written with a pen. Maybe the original stamping was faint and someone tried to "fix" it but didn't have a clue as to what the guitar was. The guitar pictured is either and ES-125D or an ES-125TD. I can't tell if it's a thick or thin body in the pic. It was made 1955 or later (20 frets) and the bridge and tuners are not original.

I’ve got a 1981 M-38 that my father bought new.

I’ve been buying and selling five-ever (that’s one longer than forever). 98% of my guitar sales are eBay and reverb so I don’t get too wound up in where to meet local sales. I used to do many sales in the parking lot at work because it was in a convenient place and my job allowed me to wander away from my desk with nobody caring. Lately the market is so horrible though…. I’ve had a 1983 Gibson Sonex for sale for 3 weeks at $650 with no bites whatsoever. I also peddle a lot of junk on eBay. I mean, I am a hardcore bottom feeder and if I can find a used ball of twine at the bottom of a junk box and sell it for 80 cents, I’ll do it. Lately people aren’t even buying that stuff. In my 23 years on eBay I’ve found that if people are happy, they buy. Right now people are afraid.

Well, I’m sure blind people have some sort of visualization in their mind, even if it’s not accurate. If I hear a voice on the radio, I conjure up a fleeting and nebulous vision of what they might look like, but if I try to pin it down, it’s like trying to see a floater in your eye… it’s clear as a bell until you try to see it. I’ve never flown (like a bird) so I have no idea what it might be like, but I’ve flown in dreams. I think our brains will connect dots that we’d never be able to do consciously. These are comments that I would make about halfway through the second joint, and that’s been a lot of years.

I had one in the mid 80s. I guess it was around a ‘65 or so. I probably have a pic somewhere. I didn’t keep it long. I’ve never found an LG or B that I was comfortable with. They all felt like they were like a spring that was wound to the point of being ready to explode.

My fave Tortex, thick as a plank. I switch off between the sharp point and one of the rounded edges, depending on how vigorous I feel at the moment.

Ruth Bader…. No, that’s not it…

I’ve been selling on eBay since 1999 and I’ve never seen it so dead as this last year. Granted, I’m a bottom feeder and I’m happy to pick something out of the trash and sell it for $2.00, but lately even that has been hard to do. As to guitars, I’ve sold more on reverb lately. I’ve had guitars sit on eBay for a week and get 14 hits. I’ve been shopping for a pre cbs Jazzmaster for close to a year and there’s literally none on eBay, all newer stuff.

“Adventure” is a relative term. I was never one for travel of any kind. Mainly because I didn’t have the money, and partly because I’m a homebody. A couple months ago we drove to New Hampshire to see Jimmy Vaughn and Steve Miller. We turned it into a very casual 3 day mini vacation. I felt like I was skipping school. Yesterday we drove down to Augusta to the Maine’s Odd and Unusual Show, which was like 75 vendors of odd and macabre. It was great. There I was, in my “de rigeur” 1950s Dad glasses, madras shirt and Wrangler jeans among a sea of pink hair, black fabric and about three million dollars worth of tattoos. I couldn’t bring myself to spend $1300 on a human skull but I did buy an old grave marker. Didn’t hurt me a bit and not ONCE did I look at a clock.

Dating a Gibson prior to 1977 can be a challenge.

You know the definition of “mistress”? Thats something that goes between a mister and a mattress.

I was going to come in tomorrow and clean my office out, but I opted to do it today. I had a display over my work station of an old violin, mandolin, guitar, banjo and tremoloa (zither) plus an old Italian accordion on one of the shelves. All came down and the holes spackled. We moved into this building in 2006 (new at the time) and I got transferred in 2014, and came back in 2017. Amazing how much crap we accumulate. I've been culling for weeks, seems like. Business as usual though, phones ringing, customers coming in. I have 42 minutes to go and I fully expect someone to walk in that wants to talk about applying for a grant for a high tunnel or something. Someone who moved up here from the city and wants to grow organic asparagus on a POS farm that some real estate guy said had 86 acres tillable.... tillable, yep. Hasn't been farmed since the 60s and it was hayground then. Now it's poplars. I'm burned out. I will miss this place. But not right away. I will be coming back under ACES (Agriculture Conservation Experienced Services) at some point, one day a week or so, whatever doesn't screw up my Social Security. So it's not like a death or divorce. I'll be around. And they will pretty much let me pick the tasks I want to do, depending on what's on fire. I will play that by ear.

Next to the last day. My boss is away for training, a couple others are out on training or maternity leave. Just me and an engineering technician in the office..... and Friday is a deadline to sign up for one of our cost share programs. So of course the phone is constantly going, people are coming in to sign up, I did my exit interview this morning, I'm getting calls from the state office asking for help in fixing screwed up contracts.... no "phoning it in" the last week.

My favorite is America Guitars by Tom Wheeler.

Three more days!

I weaned off coffee but the weaning was fairly steep. I only had one cup in the morning and then I'd have green tea sometime in the early afternoon. I did that for 2-3 days, then switched to one green tea in the morning. The first day I had a caffeine withdrawal headache. The second day less of a headache but it felt like my brain was swelling and pushing my eyeballs out. The third day, just the eyeball thing. A few days into it I drank one cup of Irish Breakfast black tea and I thought I was going to jump out of my own skin. No more of that! Tea has caffeine of course, but less than coffee. Green tea is like 35 mg vs 100 for coffee (or so). I fall off the wagon occasionally and I will pay. I had waffles with syrup for breakfast and I can feel my hands swelling up from the sugar. But I guess I need to do that once in a while to remind myself to avoid it. Twisted logic but we use the tools we need to use....

I’ve had PAF forever but didn’t actually go to the hospital about it until 1983. Some called it Wolfe Parkinson White Syndrome, then they called it PAF, but nobody has ever given me a gilt edged document to that effect. I’ve been on beta blockers since ‘83.

I retire in six days and I am a constant putterer and tinkerer. My “9-5” is mostly sedentary desk work. I get lots of exercise on the weekends and I’m a slug during the week. I’m bound to get more exercise if left to my own designs. I gave up alcohol in 2003 and smoking in 2014. I want to live a while.

Okay, not “fun” weird. I quit drinking coffee on July 12. It was bothering my stomach, making me queasy like motion sickness and the muscles or tendons (whatever) that go from your ear to your shoulder would tense up and I would then have to take 4 Advil. I switched to green tea and it all went away. That’s also about the time I stopped eating junk. I would go through a half gallon of ice cream in two evenings. And chips all the time. And candy… I’m almost 62 and I ate more candy than a rich fat ten year old boy. Now I stopped all that, I use hummus instead of mayo, turkey sausage instead of pork, I snack on grapes and grapefruit, zero ice cream, and my only candy indulgence is imported black licorice. I’ve lost about 10-12 lbs and I feel better. I drink one, sometimes two cups of green tea a day. Because I eliminated most of the caffeine from my day, I cut back my beta blocker from 100mg to 50mg with no ill effects. A few years back I was getting out of breath easily. Walking to the mailbox in the winter, pushing a mower in the summer, any uphill walking. They informally diagnosed it as bronchial hyperresponsiveness, gave me an albuteral puffer and bob’s yer uncle. I only use it as needed. I might go several days without it and then need it 2 or 3 times in one day. Except…. Since I made those changes, I haven’t had to touch the inhaler. What’s the connection?

Oh I chose that because it hit me so hard, it was economical. I got hammered cheaply and quickly and fell asleep before I could get in too much trouble. Never cared for the taste of regular beer anyway. Colt had some lidocaine in it or something, numbed my taste buds.