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An addict's NGD


sparquelito

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I headed out the door late this morning with a short shopping list of some grocery items to pick while I was out. And beer (of course).

I also needed to go by the guitar store to pick up some microphone cables to replace two that had proven unreliable at the last band gig the week before.

 

The wife was doing some odds and ends house chores and getting ready to go off to meet a friend for lunch.

She shouted, "Have fun, and get yourself something nice for Father's Day, okay?"

 

I nearly stopped dead in my tracks.

"Shoot. She's practically begging me to get myself another guitar. At least that's how I read it anyway."

 

Off I went.

And to be fair, I planned to exercise all due self-discipline and discretion.

"You really don't need another guitar, so let's just go in there and get the cables and get out, alright?"

 

After some running around, I arrived at Guitar Center.

No sweat, just stroll in, find the cables, and avoid the wall of wonderfulness.

Just because she ordered me to get myself another guitar, that's no need to do everything she commands, right?

I'm the boss around here, after all.

 

Bigger than Stuttgart, no sooner had I set foot in the door and gotten my mic cables in hand, some guy who was trying out a used Peavey amplifier waved to me and asked for my assistance.

He and his wife were hunkered down in the face of the dusty (20 year old) used amp, and were trying to test out all the functions and channels.

"Hey sir, can you sit here and play something on guitar thru this amplifier while I walk around and listen from different angles? I want to buy it, but need to know that it works right, and I am sort of fumbling around here."

I guess he thought that I worked there.

I have that sort of demeanor, it's a curse.

 

I grinned and said, "SURE. I'm your man."

 

I grabbed the nearest used guitar off the wall, plugged it in, and then almost immediately put it back.

It was a green shred machine, and the Floyd Rose bridge was maxed out on all possible adjustments, just short of finding a hex-head wrench and doing major surgery.

 

I put it back, and grabbed a dusty red Austin strat-copy down, plugged it in, checked the tuning real quick, and then ran that old Peavey amp through its paces.

Two things were apparent right away:

a. The old Peavey was a steal at $138 used. It had tone for days in all modes and channels, all the knobs and pots worked without an ounce of crackle or hiss, and it kicked some really loud arse.

and

b. The red strat copy sounded and felt really good. And I mean really good.

 

I played Steve Miller's Fly Like An Eagle.

I played The Allman Brother's Stormy Monday.

I played an original blues tune.

I noodled around with some ZZ Top riffs.

 

I glanced down at the common, run-of-the-mill Stratocaster clone, admired the wood grain thru the red transparent finish, and checked it out thru every function of the neck flatness, the bridge integrity, the smoothness of the 5-way switch, the volume knob, and the tone knobs.

It was rock solid, stayed in tune, felt light to be held, and had some impressive tones for a (what the heck?) $74.99 price tag.

 

I shut off the amp, unplugged, and told the very nice fellow and his wife, "Buy the amp. It's great, and it's a keeper. I would buy it out from under you, but I'm a nice guy."

I then strode toward the cash register in a swift and giddy fashion.

I picked up a black Ernie Ball guitar strap and some Extra Slinky strings, and told the man, "Ring me up right now. I'm an addict and this is my fix. And don't judge me."

 

The cashier grinned from ear to ear (he had borne witness to many of my previous impulsive purchases, at all conceivable cost metrics) and rang me out.

 

I got home, broke the guitar down, cleaned it, polished it, set the action and intonation, restrung it, and buffed it off until it shined like a new penny.

Hung it on me with the new strap, and plugged into the nearest amp.

 

Man oh man.

What a great outcome to a dicey and capricious New Guitar Day.

The damned thing sounds great, looks great, feels fantastic, and it stays in tune.

 

I KNOW that I'll probably play it for a few months.

I know that I'll bring it and play it at one or two gigs, as a back up to my Telecaster and my Les Paul.

And I know that I will eventually sell it for what I have in it (or give it away to a good friend who wants it), and then it will be out of my life.

 

But just for today, I am digging this silly Austin model AU731 Strat-copy guitar.

I'm an addict, so please just indulge me this one sinful pleasure.

 

And happy Father's Day.

[unsure]

 

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As one addict to another--

 

My wife said something like that once. She doesn't anymore, though, since the day I walked out with a brand new Gibson Les Paul Studio. Any time I walk into a music store now, she's right behind me dry.gif. I have to introduce her to the salespeople as "my financier." On the other hand, though, she now knows what to look for at garage sales (I schooled her). She came home with a Galveston Strat copy (Asian made?) from a garage sale one day. $20 for a Strat copy that has an ash body, straight maple neck, and superb electronics! I'm currently doing a fret redress on it and removing the green clear-coat on the body, but before I started, this thing sounded phenominal. The neck was straight, extremely comfortable, and fast. A couple of the frets were worn, but other than that, this thing is beyond cool for the price. Sounds (and looks) similar to your Austin. Enjoy it to the max! Ignore the paradigm that good guitars have to cost a lot. And it sounds like you got a good one!

 

PS-- good on you for helping out strangers and giving a fellow musician sound advice.

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A very long, interesting and entertaining post.... [thumbup]

 

Many of us have done something similar

 

Many of us suffer from guilt, try to hide stuff from spouses et al... <_<

 

It can be difficult to explain motivations to dispassionate others

 

Addicts of other persuasions may resort to hiding their 'fix' in secret places around the house/garage/garden shed.... :blink:

 

It works the same for guitars.... <_<

 

V

 

:-({|=

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I also needed to go by the guitar store to pick up some microphone cables to replace two that had proven unreliable at the last band gig the week before.

 

Uh oh.

 

I'm the boss around here, after all.

 

Yeah, right. :rolleyes:

 

I then strode toward the cash register in a swift and giddy fashion.

I picked up a black Ernie Ball guitar strap and some Extra Slinky strings, and told the man, "Ring me up right now. I'm an addict and this is my fix. And don't judge me."

 

That's the way to do it. HNGD, sparq!

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"Ring me up right now. I'm an addict and this is my fix. And don't judge me."

 

The cashier grinned from ear to ear (he had borne witness to many of my previous impulsive purchases, at all conceivable cost metrics) and rang me out.

 

 

 

[unsure]

 

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THAT's the kind of post I like to read.

 

I once came across a good, cheap black Strat, and I told the guy, "I would, but I DEFINITELY don't need ANOTHER Strat, I have far too many now"

 

"But do you have a black one?"

 

lol.

 

Went into a shop one time to visit my buddy while I waited for my GF to get off work, and I told the guy, I TOLD the guy, "I'm just hanging out". He kept asking me about this guitar or that, and I told the guy, "Look here, you KNOW what I have already, a lot of it. The only way you would get me to even think of buying another guitar is if it had so much soul I couldn't stand it".

 

He hands me a Les Paul with P-90's, a flame maple top in 'iced tea' and gold hardware. "You Bastard".

 

lol.

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Thank you all for the support and for the validation.

I really do appreciate it.

 

 

This business of being a guitar addict;

it's rough enough without people judging you and giving you crap for each and every thing you do wrong.

 

"You brought home another guitar? What is wrong with you?"

 

"Do you know how many groceries we could have bought with that money, you bastard?"

or

"Where have you been, at the guitar store again, did you know that your brother is dying and could really use your left kidney??"

 

Who needs that kind of pressure?

 

Anyway.

Happy fathers day to all to whom that applies.

 

I'm sitting here with my transparent red Austin, and life is good.

 

I may be one kidney shy of a pair tomorrow, but, *eh*, what the heck.

 

It's all good.

[scared] :mellow: :unsure: [crying]

 

df7853c674bd779daea064362d614a7e.jpg

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