Daily Archives: March 7, 2010

See, this is why we can’t have nice things.

7 March 2010

You may be aware that there was a guitar fatality at a recent TCB show.  I am sad to report that both El Twango and my trusty Gibson 335 took a spill, simultaneously.  (It was a total accident of course, and the guilty party has made amends completely so that we’re square.)  Miraculously,  El Twango suffered only a scuff, which I was able to buff right out.  Such is the reputation of Telecasters being virtually indestructible I guess.  My beloved 335 however… was decapitated.  Words fail.  The grisly images appear below.  View at your own risk.

You can see, this is a pretty severe break.  Most would assume fatal.  I did.  I had already started writing his eulogy, including doing the math and figuring out that his short career was only 49 TCB shows and one Love Vigilantes guest spot.  In fact, he appeared at every single TCB show since I got him… because even the travelling shows where I only brought one, it was always him.  From the moment I got him, he’s been my number one go-to guitar.  This was all meant to be part of that tragic posthumous story, but as it turns out… he’s still on the operating table!  (Insert suspenseful soap opera organ flourish here.)  As bad as it looks, and as much as I’d be helpless trying to fix it myself, it seems there is hope!  You see, I’ve left him in the very capable hands of Gryphon (who does all my guitar work).  If he can be fixed, hope against hope, then they can do it.  He may never look as pretty, and his resale value will be shot, but he might still be functional.  Do you really think he’ll pull through?  I know it’s serious.

Independent of that though, a coupon has lured me into considering picking up a new guitar.  Now, I am a well-documented (though recovering) guitar addict.  These days though, I’m usually selling them rather than buying them.  But I do slip sometimes.  The quote of the week comes from Sus, as I was telling her about my latest guitar plans:

Benjamin: “Just when I think I’m out, they pull me back in!  But as a testament to how good I’ve been about not buying guitars lately, a store I used to shop with sent me a 20% off coupon in an email titled ‘We miss you!'”

Sus: “Did the email start with ‘Dear Whore,’?”