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ernandez R -> RE: sticker on guitar headstock (Sep. 20 2023 7:01:28)
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quote:
ORIGINAL: RobF
quote:
Just need a stick on rosette to match
[:D]
I remember, when I was just a kid, going to a jam session in the basement of a school-mate’s house. One of his big brothers had this electric guitar where he’d taken those trapezoidal brass letter plates that were popular at the time (about 300 years ago) and spelt “Gibson” out across the top of the head.
Man, was I impressed! I remember thinking to myself “Holy cow, those Gibsons are supposed to be something else! He must be pretty good to have one of those!”
I know…hook, line, and sinker…
But, it was a good thing, as it inspired me to start hunting for a real Gibson (my Holy Grail) and some time later I was the proud owner of a late 1950s Les Paul Junior that someone had spray painted black. My Dad almost killed me for that stunt.* I paid $80 for it and used it for years. Never liked the neck on it, however, so it got moved along when I got my Firebirds.
* I don’t know why, because I had earned that money myself helping the milkman, Claude, deliver milk. Claude also taught me how to blow smoke rings and buy beer from the dépanneur, and demonstrated as living proof the dangers of staying out all night gambling then showing up for work at 4AM still drunk with the beginnings of a massive hangover. Those drives across Montreal with a dishevelled Claude at the wheel, still dark outside and the city still sleeping, milk bottles rattling crazily against each other in the back, and me sitting on the floor beside him blowing smoke rings, were the stuff of legends. I was 12 at the time. Claude also, believe it or not, would occasionally spend an inordinate amount of time inside Mrs. ****’s house come collection day. The man was a walking cliché, but also a figure from times long gone in our modern world. He was a good guy. Here’s to Claude!
Claude the milk man, stuff of legends for sure, although in these PC me—too times perhaps not so much… My father told how after learning how to shoe horses he would be there taking care of the horses and lonely housewives… it was another era for certain. Viva lá diferance!
As a teen this old guy, father of a high school friend, would buy a pallet of customer returned radios, hundreds of them in the box. He set me up with a little workbench and I would repair them after school. I would sell them at the local drive in swap meet for 50% of whatever I made over the weekend. Anyway the old man taught me to make gin and tonics with these tall chimney glasses with a embossed naked lady on the sides: fill with ice, gin up to the boobs, tonic to the rim, and half a lemon well squeezed. It was later determined that my limit was one ;). I might have been 15 but not yet 16 for sure…
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times!
Almost forgot, did my first bridge reglue at their place, a cheap plywood classical that someone had put steel strings on, I used epoxy cause, I think it stayed on about two weeks after I reinstalled those steel strings…
HR
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