Today has not gone as planned. Sometime late last night, my water heater blew a seam, soaking my basement and damaging guitar cases, but not damaging any guitars. I spent today arranging for it to be replaced. Tomorrow I’m flying to Los Angeles to write a thing for Road&Track that some of you are really going to like, I hope. I was planning to drive to Detroit at 4AM so I could see the introduction of the Mustang, then drive home, then drive to the airport, but I lost the seven hours it would take to do that getting the new water heater installed. Well, that and making this very regrettable video.
Today is my friend Melisa’s birthday. She’s had a tough month — somebody pulled out in front of her and her car was totaled and she was hurt a little bit. In her honor, Patrick and I did a song for her. I flubbed the solo, even though I know it, but we couldn’t redo it because I lost my voice. These things happen. Happy Birthday, Melisa. You’re a great writer with a lot of great stories left in you, and I remain a fan.
Today, Jalopnik’s Matt Hardigree announced his intention to disregard manufacturer embargoes, and I offered some commentary on the matter. I support Matt’s actions, although in an era where very few people are capable of recognizing anything other than a braying binary declaration of total adoration as “support” I doubt he’ll thank me for it.
I’m slightly frustrated with our industry this week for other reasons, however. I’m depressed that Jalopnik harvested 664,000 clicks out of Paul Walker’s death — but I’m even more depressed that Doug DeMuro made a deliberate attempt to raise his profile on the back of Paul’s death with a spectacularly uninformed statement, only to walk it back in the most pansy-assed and low-profile manner possible fewer than forty-eight hours afterwards. There’s nothing quite as cringe-inducing as the combination of naked ambition, a desperate need to be liked, and a paralyzing fear of saying anything at all worth remembering, all in one person. As stupid as the CGT statement was, I’d have respected him for standing behind it, or for admitting he was wrong. But I’ve learned the hard way that if you wait around for the average dude to do something worth respecting, you’ll wait a long time.
At least I can take comfort in the relative insignificance of automotive journalism. We may be idiots, we may be cowards, we may be openly for sale to the highest bidder in an auction where the largest sum mentioned wouldn’t purchase a new Camry, but at least we aren’t very widely read. Want proof? Read the rest of this entry »
The number was (614)281-8211. You could call it and get the time and the temperature. As the years went by and I aged out of cheerful childhood into awkward adolescence, the anonymous agency that ran the number began to insert advertising ahead of the time and temperature. The ads were always read by the same man. I imagined him to be old but not old. His voice was fundamentally baritone but it had a treble crinkle to it, like Howard Stern’s, the telltale that he had learned to speak that way. If you put a pistol in his face or called him to tell him that his child had died, you’d get his true voice. But still, he had a reserved dignity in his cadence, which never varied whether he was telling you about deals on new Toyotas or something exciting at the Shriner Center.
One of the first posts I made on this blog was concerning my G&L Korina Collection. I still have them all. Other than using the ASAT Bass to record Bird Stealing Bread a while back, I’ve barely played them. However, I’ve kept the Korina Classic Bluesboy, with its traditional Telecaster bridge pickup, in the upstairs rack just in case somebody needed it.
Flattery, they say, will get you anywhere. “I like the way you play that song better than the original,” someone told me, “so you should record it.” But since I can’t leave anything well enough alone, I had to change it up and make it worse. Read the rest of this entry »
A month or so, I announced my desire to commission a Carvin Bromberg Elite. The build team in San Diego got it done in rapid time and it showed up last night. I think they knocked it out of the park. More shots and a rather embarrassing sound demo after the jump.
Today’s Avoidable Contact opens up with a brief vignette concerning a young woman’s slide into what one calls everything from “ho’ing” to “sex work” depending on the duration of one’s time at university. Yes, Virgin(ia), prostitutes are typically made, not born. Last night my mind was on Porsche productastrophe, but this morning I’ve let that go and now I’m thinking: putting aside the politically-correct and sex-positive claptrap, how do I really feel about sex work and sex workers? Read the rest of this entry »
Long weekend full of running errands across the Midwest: pick up the PRS MC-58 in Cinncinnati, drop off my 560SL, go home, put the kid on a plane to Florida, head to Indianapolis, pick up the Heritage Patriot amp that electronics maestro Bobby Getchell refurbished with NOS Mullard tubes.
The Saturday mission was particularly annoying because the heater fan in the SL has decided to take personal time off until further notice and the soft top seals only marginally better in the up position than it does when it’s folded. So it was going to be a cold trip. Read the rest of this entry »