6 posts tagged “guitar”
Yes, it's inevitable. Today, you buy your son an electric guitar, and before you know it, he's on YouTube.
I have to point out that:
- There are dozens of covers of this tune on YouTube. Probably by more experienced musicians. But I think this is the only one recorded in a kitchen. (The lighting in the garage is awful.)
- I might be persuaded to do a video of my own, although the new dishwasher would probably sound better than me.
Commercial radio's in trouble. Stupid playlists, homogenized programming, ads written by 11th grade copywriters. And Michael Savage, don't even get me started.
I've managed to find a smallish FM transmitter than manages to hit every FM receiver in my house. This means I can listen to any number of public radio stations or Jake Shimabukuro CDs, just by running iTunes and plugging the transmitter into the headphone jack on my computer. And never have to listen to a moronic car ad.
My recent fascination with the ukulele has led me to find yet another of Jake's renditions of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." This one's a duet with Tommy Emmanuel, who's no slouch on the guitar, himself.
I love this stuff.
When they invent a low-wattage personal video transmitter -- and it'll probably be an Apple product -- I'll have YouTube all over my home. Which could be a bad thing. Some potty-mouthed fool left a comment with inappropriate language on one of my YouTube submissions. I think he meant it as a show of enthusiasm, but I took it down anyway.
Random thoughts:
Going once, going twice -- Attended a Western-style Red Cross charity auction event tonight. Luckily, I have a Stetson hat, string tie, Tony Lama's, one of my dad's immense belt buckles, and a horseman's duster. Just in case someone invites me to a wagon train.
The big item up for auction: you and a few friends get to walk the two elephants across our local zoo's campus for their morning constitutional. The winning bid: around $700. (I was outbid, largely because I sat on my paddle.)
This is Rochester. We auction off a walk with elephants.
I've met these elephants. They're not enormous, but they're bigger than those SUV-sized elephants the Ringling Brothers brought through town last spring. And I have to ask: even if you bring 3 friends, are you walking the elephant, or is he walking you?
And why would you pay to walk an elephant, anyway? I already have to pick up after my dog. I know I'd need a bigger bag for the elephants.
Happy 5768. It's Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.
Which sounds more observant than what we call it in our synagogue: the Days of Remembrance, when Jews take stock of the year just past. We examine our lapses, sins, and shortcomings, and ask God to renew us in the Book of Life.
We belong to an amazing little congregation, with a terrific, compassionate rabbi whose "are you with me" humility makes us all feel like family. Ours is neither the largest nor richest congregation in Rochester. Our building needs a fair amount of repair, and the air-conditioning likes to take a vacation now and then. Mostly now.
But, there are many different ways to interpret wealth. And our temple's rabbi and the friends we have there make us wealthier than larger congregations with newer, more lavish buildings.
Making more empty spaces -- Demolition crews took down another building at Kodak Park this morning. No festivities, no fanfare. Just a few hundred sticks of dynamite, and another piece of industrial history is pulverized. I think it's better this way.
A Father's Radar -- I began teaching my son a few guitar chords today. He wants to play like Colin Hay, but he's just realizing it's a little more complicated than picking out the progression to Overkill. One step at a time.
I slip into Father Mode far too easily. My daughter's off in Canada on a college-run field trip this weekend. And I'm mildly more conscious of her out-of-country status than I am when she's at her college campus, about 90 minutes from home.
I have been a father for so long that I sometimes find my radar up for kids who aren't even mine. Maybe it's my Boy Scout leader training working overtime.
But please read this, and tell me what you think. Thank you.
Two unrelated entertainers visited our sleepy corner of New York state this week. Self-indulgent ex-folkie that I am, we saw them both.
The Auburn (NY) Public Theatre brought David to town. His shows are tremendously entertaining, ranging from love songs to comedic paeans about a father with a "Three Stooges" haircut.
David's website has great audio of his music. But if you're forgiving of the trippy audio quality of YouTube, here's a video clip I ran across:
Incidentally, that sleek-looking acoustic guitar David's playing in the upper photo is a carbon-fiber beauty called a Rainsong. They have a sweet, rich sound that you just don't expect without lots of spruce and mahogany. Got $1200? Get one. They are amazing instruments.
And, to be honest, I couldn't see from my seat if Martha really wears an ankle bracelet. I could hardly get a decent photo.
Martha was in town to speak at the Ad Council luncheon. In a true display of "show-'em-how-it's-done," Martha schooled about 800 local advertising and PR people on creating, managing, and extending one's personal brand. Martha's magazine empire is expanding, and I expect a line of Martha Meals in the supermarkets any day now. Her talk wasn't so much inspirational as it was a live catalogue of all she has going on.
It's evident that a few months "otherwise occupied" as a guest of the federales hasn't slowed Martha down very much. But she never once reached for a guitar.
I'm going away for a few days, in search of white water in West Virginia. But I'd be interested in your comments about the Chris Usher podcast available here.
Thanks.
Here's what I learned when shopping for a guitar: they're all pretty much alike.
I'm sure there are Martin, Taylor, and Rainsong afficionados who are quick to disagree. That's fine, if you happen to have $1,500 to drop on that marvelous sounding carbon-fibre Rainsong that David Wilcox occasionally plays. My first guitar was a $150 Madeira acoustic, a Guild-sanctioned Japanese import. It rang clear like a bell, and its boom stopped slightly short of the big Guild concert acoustics that John Denver favored, back in the day. It still sounds terrific.
But it's the 21st century now. I still have that Madeira, and found another one -- maple, not mahogany -- that CK decided was perfect for her. That was a couple years ago. This year, she came home and decided she needed an electric guitar.
I had never before thought of purchasing an electric guitar. But, as it turns out, my 30 years of guitar-buying knowledge didn't count for much. I went shopping for a Mexican-made Fender Stratocaster, but CK kept turning down my choices: too green. Too black. Too...
--Then it hit me. She didn't care whether it was a Fender, an Epiphone, or a Gibson. It just had to be, well, blue.
And as it turns out, the Chinese-made Fender Squier I found for a Franklin -- with amp -- just happened to be blue.
Now who's a guitar hero?
Admission: I bid on the Jimmy Buffett/Sports Illustrated autographed guitar that's in his video in the swimsuit issue. The thing went for $42,000. Hmm. That Rainsong's looking pretty darn good right now...
