I had to go get it about 15 miles away from where I work, but it’s here and it appears to be 100% okay. Better photos to come — the brilliant “hybrid” tuners don’t shine at all when my Android takes the shot — but this is the Green Destiny.
Have You Heard
The personal site of Jack Baruth
Month: August 2013 (page 1 of 3)
Where was I? Oh yes, I was dealing with FedEx’s inability to deliver the Green Destiny to my home. Insofar as last night was practice for the Mark Baruth And Friends thing, and I planned to use that guitar, along with a Godin LGXT synth-itar, at the gig, I wanted to have it for the practice. It seemed reasonable to me that, if I started talking to FedEx at 1pm and demonstrated a willingness to drive anywhere in the city, including their airport depot and East Side depot, that I could make this happen.
Note that I say that it seemed reasonable to me.
(If you haven’t heard the above phrase, this might help.)
The Green Fade shipped on Monday. But because I failed to SCREAM INTO THE PHONE that it must not, never, EVER be shipped via FedEx Ground, it was shipped via FedEx Ground.
And now the game begins.
CONTINUE READING
One of the recurring themes of the stuff I write here and elsewhere is the relationship between signified and signifier. The true nature of something and the outward appearances, the appurtenances, the accessories. If I could simply obtain the gift of always seeing the former and never the latter, I would be wealthy, successful, loved beyond my limits of my imagination. It’s unlikely to happen. I’ll continue to sit in Plato’s Cave, facing the wall, just like the rest of us.
At least I have company, as this following anecdote will demonstrate.
Where do you go after you commission the finest Blue Fade PRS in all the world?
Away from the ocean. Out of the green, into the blue.
Two and a half days from now I’ll take my first flight since I escaped the hospital, and as fate would have it I’m going to my favorite place-I-want-to-visit-but-could-never-live, the Bay Area and Napa. I doubt it will do anything for my lungs but I am certain it will clear the poison out of my blood. It’s my fifth trip there in the past year and the third since April, which is worrying because it indicates that, as is also the case with the modern crop of broad-spectrum antibiotics, the efficacy of this particular treatment is diminishing as the illnesses it treats become more resistant to it.
“Joni wrote Blue in a house by the sea,” Mr. Mayer tells us in Queen of California, “I’ve got to believe there’s another color waiting on me.” Those of us who have read extensively about the lives of both artists (don’t be ashamed, raise your hand… is that a hand up back there? No? Just scratching your head? It’s just me then? Joni and John? Mayer and Mitchell? Anybody? Just me then?) know there’s a bit of irony there. The idea of California meant escape to one and entanglement to the other.
CONTINUE READING
The MelodyBird‘s settling in very nicely in Toronto, and its owner has already started working with Chris to get another one. Doesn’t look like I’ll have to make good on our money-back guarantee 
We’ll have some demos in the near future. In other news, a major dealer in, ah, a city in Nevada has agreed to carry the regular MelodyBurners as soon as we have stock. Pretty soon you’ll be able to gamble and check one out all without going more than a few miles from your hotel.
In the meantime, enjoy these shots…
Paradise Lost is one of the books which the reader admires and lays down, and forgets to take up again. None ever wished it longer than it is. — Samuel Johnson
If I’d run for it, right there in public, sprinted from the door of my Town Car to the front door of DiBella’s, I’d have beaten her there. If I’d run, like Napoleon Dynamite or something. Grown men don’t run in public. This is something I’ve learned. When you see a man running in public, he’d better be waving a gun. Otherwise he is a loooooooooo-zer. Still. If I’d run. I’d be ahead of her. Now I’m behind her, and the bitch won’t stop talking about sriracha.
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