Wednesday, April 24, 2013

But it was a guitar too



I wrote the Monday and Tuesday posts a little over a week ago. I had shared aspects of the dream on Twitter and Facebook, and with my family, but the thoughts were still churning.  I wrote in my journal, and that still wasn’t enough. Finally I wrote the blog posts and held onto them while I finished up a different train of thought.

I prefer writing in advance, because it gives me a chance to re-write, and it’s less stressful. The downside is that the material can become outdated before you post. You see, I now have the guitar.

Obviously I was wanting it. I had not found one like it when I was looking before, but I was thinking in concrete terms, like price. I thought it would probably cost between $400 - $600, and I could manage $400. I wanted to see if I was at least close. The Gibson was a limited edition, so there was no point in checking there, but I thought I could do a price search for the Epiphone Flying V bass.

That took me to Musician’s Friend. I have watched some of their online segments with musicians talking about the equipment they use, including one with Frank Iero. That’s how I knew about the Phant-o-matic. I thought they were kind of a magazine, but they’re a store, and this came up right away:


“It’s you! I wasn’t even sure you were real, but it’s you!”

I admit that, from the dream, I did not specifically remember skull knobs with ruby eyes (which I am digging) or the dual humbucker pickups. The neck is not extra long, which is just as well. It already reaches my collarbone when standing on the floor. I can’t get a good picture of the whole thing. None of those things changed the sense of recognition. Looking at the others, they weren’t right. This was. And it was only $300, with free shipping. Yes I ordered!

Yes, I was worried that I was crazy. First of all, this is geared for metal. One of the reviews mentions using it for crusty punk, though, and that does kind of sound like me. Also, there’s the whole issue with me sucking at guitar. However, when I posted the dream, and the picture of the bass, everyone was really supportive.

  • “I saw Randy Rhodes play one like that once.”
  • “I can totally see you fronting a metal band.”
  • “I see you with this model.”
  • “Tyler can give you tips.”
  • “We need to have a bass off.”

Wait, what? Don’t you see that this is ridiculous? Or is that just me?

Thinking back to ninth grade, and Beginning Guitar, and I started to wonder if I was really so awful. I remember people who were much better, but they’d all had some previous experience, and I was a true beginner. What if I was just normal all along?

With driving, part of what worried me was how scared I was, which I later learned was normal. Driving and Dad disowning me was 17, but giving up on guitar was 14. 14 was also when that other thing happened that taught me that if any boy ever liked me it was a joke. That was a false message, but I internalized it. Maybe every time I’ve written myself off I’ve been wrong. And every time I have done that, it’s meant denying myself something that I’ve wanted, so I’m letting myself have the bass. I now own a bass, and I believe I will be able to play it.

I am swamped through May 25th, so I was thinking I would wait to start playing with it, but I have not been able to stick to that. It is nothing amazing. To give you an idea of my ignorance, playing the thickest string takes some finesse to keep it from bouncing off the frets – I guess I need to pluck upward - and I like the sound of the second thinnest string best. It nonetheless feels good.

Right now I am only exploring the feel and sound. Later on I’ll worry about learning which notes are which, and how sheet music for guitar is different from voice and piano. Pedals and amps and all of that will have to wait. Probably. I might want to get a case now.

I was worried about picking up bad habits this way, but it feels right. I always meant to get back into music eventually, and start finishing some of those songs I started. I thought it would be piano, or maybe drums, but okay. Maybe thoroughly exploring the sounds of this bass will help me to get these tunes out of my head and into the world.

This probably sounds like a very hippie-dippy strategy. Well, it is for a guitar that came to me in a dream, possessing both symbolic and literal power for healing my adolescence. I mean, magical thinking seems like as valid an approach as any. I don’t know; I’m still working things out.

Truly, I am working it all out. I wasn’t surprised that as I started leaning towards bass more I started listening to Violent Femmes more, because I associate them with strong bass line, but these past few days my mind keeps going to “Iron Man”, the one Black Sabbath song that really stands out for me. So even though it seems unlikely now, if at 50 I suddenly start a Black Sabbath cover band, the Sabbath Keepers, and that seems like the natural next step in this path that I am on, so be it.

Last week I did some shopping, and I stopped by Floating World Comics. I picked up some Fables, and I asked the clerk about Fast Forward #1. They did not have, but Cosmic Monkey might as he had seen #2 there. As we were talking, I explained somewhat apologetically that I was kind of a latecomer. And he was lovely, and what he told me was that was great, because I had everything to look forward to.

That’s kind of my whole life right now. I keep taking on so many new things where I am just a baby at them, and I want to do so much with the drawing and writing and now playing. It’s like every bit of creativity that I get out just triggers five more things that I must do. Time is a problem, and I feel out of balance trying to get everything done. I need to work that out.

At the same time, everything is so exciting! My world is amazing and beautiful. I guess in some ways it’s terrifying too, or it should be, but mainly it feels like kind of a rush. Maybe that’s because every time I learn that I was wrong, the reality is better than what I had thought. And that’s good, because it seems like I am perpetually wrong about everything.

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