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RE: Guitar Making Disasters
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estebanana
Posts: 9335
Joined: Oct. 16 2009
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RE: Guitar Making Disasters (in reply to estebanana)
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Well a minor disaster was the time around 2005 when I was making a copy of a Fleta and I had the carcass of the instrument face down in the solera. I fitted the back, A OK! Looks good! Perfect fit tight joints, glued it on. Returned the next morning to the shop and was very excited to get the guitar off the solera and admire my work, tap on the top, do some air guitar and continue working. So I unclamp the solera from the vise, put the guitar and solera on the work table, reach under the solera to twist and speed twirl off the wing nut that holds the bracket which holds the guitar face down in the solera. DOH! The wing nut is on the inside of the guitar and my fingers are rubbing over the smooth end of a carriage bolt under the solera. I forgot to mind which way the bolt was facing when I glued on the back. So I had to think of a way to get the stupid guitar off the solera, I had to drill holes through a really nice solera round the bolt until I could break out the bolt. It ruined the solera, which was pretty well made. The guitar was fine, and it sold, although to a fellow who was a bit like RNJ's 'Penelope" character. Never mind. The disaster came later, few years a later when I had to buy an angle grinder for some household repair. I realized, stupidly, I could have ground off the end of the bolt and saved the solera. *sigh* The initial moment of chagrin and self loathing was recorded by my then shop mate Stewart Port. He got out his camera and said: "Hold up the guitar and solera stuck together for a photo op!" and then added "OK take you medicine!" *click* Somewhere he has a photo which registers my discontent and embarrassment. I think he also bought me lunch that day.
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https://www.stephenfaulkguitars.com
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Date Sep. 20 2015 1:24:29
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Richard Jernigan
Posts: 3423
Joined: Jan. 20 2004
From: Austin, Texas USA
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RE: Guitar Making Disasters (in reply to BarkellWH)
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quote:
ORIGINAL: BarkellWH Richard, I think cultural factors that lead to retribution, such as Pimentel's, on the personal level and, historically, the inability to sustain a modern, mature political and economic system at the macro-level in Mexico, Latin America, and much of what used to be called the "Third World" have been the lack of what is known as "social capital" and the inability to take responsibility for the consequences of one's choices and actions. Individuals perceive that they owe their allegiance to the family or clan, and the idea of working toward the common good of society as a whole is an abstraction that has little meaning. Life in such a culture is seen as a zero-sum game. Texans, especially old time Texans like the male ancestors bearing my family name, have been criticized for individualism. But I have consistently told people that the old time Texan individualism is nothing compared to that of the average Mexican, of any social or economic class. quote:
Additionally, people generally lack what we in Western culture would describe as the ability to learn from our mistakes by taking responsibility for our mistakes in the first place. If we in the West experience failure, our first question is generally, "what did I do wrong?" In Latin America and the more traditional cultures, when they experience failure their first question is generally, "Who did this to me?" Historically, the lack of social capital and the inability to take responsibility for the consequences of one's choices and actions go a long way toward explaining much of Latin American and Third World social ills and lack of development. What I found striking about the guitar sabotage incident was that Pimentel was obviously capable of self criticism, and to an unusual degree. This ability was essential to learning to be a very highly skilled luthier, and to his rise in economic status as a successful business man. His dealings with his clients clearly reflected an understanding of the social value of ethical business dealings. Yet he brought with him in his deepening understanding of his craft and his business, the principle of retribution. quote:
I have always believed that culture can change, albeit slowly. In my lifetime I have seen some positive changes in Latin America, but much of the old lack of social capital and inability to take responsibility for one's choices and actions remain. That's not to say that we in the United States and Canada have a lock on perfection. We do not. But if one compares the pattern of political, economic, and social development between North America, settled by English and Northern European settlers, and Latin America, settled by the Spanish, I think some conclusions regarding reasons for the disparate levels of development, as well as individual reactions to perceived insults like Pimentel's, become apparent. Bill The Anglo American culture of Texas has evolved significantly during my lifetime. Fifty or sixty years ago, when I was a teenager or young man, it was not safe to insult somebody. You would have been called out to fight. If you had refused or fled, you would have been despised as a coward. Delayed or concealed retribution would have been seen as underhanded. The matter would have been settled promptly or not at all. In the very few instances that I called someone out, I was generally seen to be in the right. In each case I won. My social status rose. Thirty years ago I would have laughed off insults that in my youth had led to fights. I went to high school in a Maryland suburb of Washington DC, but spent summers in Texas. What were seen as fighting words in Texas would likely have gotten no more than an insulting reply in Maryland, though there was a white high school gang culture that took verbal slights more seriously. Formal dueling went out in Texas sometime during my grandfather's youth, but it was the rule of the day during most of my great grandfather's long lifetime. He was born in 1830 and passed away in 1910. I heard a few dueling stories from my grandfather and his brothers--not from them as participants, but concerning contemporaries. It would have been unwise to relate personal participation, since dueling was illegal by the time my father was a young man. In about 1957 or 1958 a justice of the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals said at my parents' dinner table that no one had ever been convicted in Texas for killing a man found in his wife's bed. Although I can't cite cases, I strongly suspect this is no longer the case. One of my great-uncles, a retired U.S. Cavalry general, openly bemoaned the decline of manners that followed the outlawing of duels. I think manners have declined atrociously during my lifetime, but I would be reluctant to reinstitute duels. RNJ
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Date Sep. 20 2015 2:25:28
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BarkellWH
Posts: 3457
Joined: Jul. 12 2009
From: Washington, DC
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RE: Guitar Making Disasters (in reply to Richard Jernigan)
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quote:
I think manners have declined atrociously during my lifetime, but I would be reluctant to reinstitute duels. Duels were, indeed, the method by which gentlemen (and I emphasize the term "gentlemen") satisfied their sense of honor. The chief weapons until the beginning of the eighteenth century were swords, with pistols becoming de rigeur from the eighteenth century on. I actually would have preferred duels fought with swords to those fought with pistols. I have to think that it took real skill to fight a duel with swords, whereas anyone can pull a trigger. The interesting thing about the history of dueling is that there were not that many duels that ended in death. Most, whether fought with swords or pistols, ended with the first drawn blood. To draw first blood generally satisfied the honor of both parties, as both had exhibited the courage to appear on the Field of Honor. Some duels fought with pistols didn't even draw blood. Each participant would deliberately miss his target, so that both demonstrated courage without suffering the consequences. Of course, some were fought with bitter enmity, and they did end in death. I read somewhere that only about 30 percent of duels, historically, ended in death. Probably the most well-known duelists were the German university students of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries who belonged to the student clubs called "Burschenschaft." Their duels were always fought with swords, and the idea was to inflict a wound on the face, generally on the cheek, so that a scar would form. It was considered a badge of honor. I have been to Heidelberg, Germany on several occasions, and it is always interesting to see the old photographs of German university students wearing the cap of their respective "Burschenschaft" and sporting a scar on the cheek. You can see these old photographs in some of the Gasthauser such as "Zum Rothen Ochsen" and other historic student hangouts. I forget where I first heard this, but I carry in my memory the following line, which is one of the coolest I have ever heard. Two men entered a pub before meeting on the Field of Honor. They approached the barkeep, and one said, "Barkeep, swords for two and brandy for one." That's the kind of elegant class I would like to think I would demonstrate, were I to engage in a duel. Bill
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And the end of the fight is a tombstone white, With the name of the late deceased, And the epitaph drear, "A fool lies here, Who tried to hustle the East." --Rudyard Kipling
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Date Sep. 20 2015 7:14:43
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BarkellWH
Posts: 3457
Joined: Jul. 12 2009
From: Washington, DC
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RE: Guitar Making Disasters (in reply to Richard Jernigan)
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quote:
Did you ever see Franco Zeffirelli's film of Romeo and Juliet? I saw it while I was in high school. It was a revelation to me. I had read Shakespeare's play a few years before, and marveled at the violent behavior of Renaissance adults. But Zeffirelli cast the violent people as teenagers, or just barely older. He saw the fighting Montagues and Capulets as upperclass teenage gangs. And that was precisely the theme of "West Side Story," which substituted Spanish Harlem for Verona, Italy. Both Zeffirellie's "Romeo and Juliet" and Jerome Robbins' Leonard Bernstein's, and Stephen Sondheim's "West Side Story" were terrific productions that played up the same theme. Bill
_____________________________
And the end of the fight is a tombstone white, With the name of the late deceased, And the epitaph drear, "A fool lies here, Who tried to hustle the East." --Rudyard Kipling
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Date Sep. 21 2015 0:11:06
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estebanana
Posts: 9335
Joined: Oct. 16 2009
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RE: Guitar Making Disasters (in reply to Leñador)
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quote:
I didn't, I'll have to check it out. I love being an adult and waking up everyday without the fear of accidentally offending the wrong person and paying a ridiculously high price. You just have to move out of the 'hood. I know what you mean. I used to live in rough areas and if you so much as a look at a guy the wrong way your catalytic converter will be stolen, cut off, in the middle of the night. And the guy you accidentally gave the bad look to is a major disfunctional idiot. The guy is standing on the corner looking at you with that 'look' and you look back as if to say You looking at me, again? It's like he looks at you everyday trying to catch you looking at him, so he can look back a finally say HAH, you looked now I can rip you off because you offended me because I wore you down and you finally got tired of me giving you the evil eye every day. Yeah I hate that too. Such a brain drain. Sometimes I just want to say, yeah I'm looking at you and POW! POW! BUMP! I just ran you over with your truck. ( which is howling like a Harley with no muffler because the idiot cut your cat. But of course of you run over the guy that everyone hates who is ripping everyone off you're some how an evil person. I watch reruns of Law and Order SVU and Ice T. aways says that line in the opening "Street justice is always bloody." And I laugh and no one understands why I'm laughing. The only good thing about the 'cat cut' is that after they do it once you can get an after market cat. The original Toyota cats are worth recycling, but the after market cats are crappy so recyclers won't take them. So the moron on the corner who cuts cats won't cut an after market cat, not worth anything. ________ I went to Colton High school for three years and transferred to Pacific for my final year. Colton was 75% or 80% Mexican heritage kids, there was one black guy, two or three Asians who stayed hidden and the rest white kids. The black kid was named Thadeus, we became friends, most of the white kids were normal American football players cheer leaders etc. Thad played an Ovation and I had a Martin D-45 copy and we messed around with songs at lunch. There were a few 'smart nerds' both Mexican and white and the band nerds, mixed race. Most of the school were tough low income 'Chicano' identifying kids, several of them in real gangs, but most played at being gang bangers. Fakes. I had a lot of hand me down clothes and among the clothes were wool Pendelton shirts. The faux gang kids wore Pendleton shirts and bandanas and Dickies khaki pants. With these cheap black "kung-fu" slip on shoes. The first year I wore my Pendleton shirts in winter because it was cold. Gangoid kids kept pushing me around in the halls, finally one kid said I want your Pendelton Mother******. I finally figured out why they pestered me. So I said "Hey, Francisco ( that was his name) I though we were friends, don't give me this crap about you want my shirt, friends don't treat each other like this." He was half a foot shorter than me and had me by the collar, he let go realizing he was in a bad position. I stopped wearing my Pendleton shirts because it provoked and "offended" the fake gang morons. Had it really bothered any real gang guys I would have been in much bigger trouble, but since they were trafficking in heroin and large amounts of Mexican or Asian and pot beating up a stupid white kid would have attracted attention to them. (The real bad guys never touched anyone, except other real gang members of rival gangs. Between San Bernardino, Fontana and Colton there were some fierce and nasty gang rivals. ) I began to get into surfing so I begged my grandma to buy me long sleeved tee shorts with logos like Ocean Pacific and Gordon & Smith and Z-Flex etc. And I wore them around school, so now the gangsters no longer wanted my clothing. Because now they just sneered about surfers at 'Coltone' ' ( Theez ezz Col- Tone- AYY - surfer mother ****) The accents were put on heavy, not the accent of a recent migrant, but the accent of an inner city kid posturing to be tough. About the end of tenth grade I bought two pairs of Van tennis shoes in Riverside, direct from the Van Doren factory. You could go to the factory showroom and buy your shoes then. I bought one pair with the yellow and red canvas panels and the other with brown and blue alternating panels. ( These shoes could be made in many different color schemes) Then I put switched out the right foot shoes and I had two mismatched pairs, which was a thing for skateboarders and surfers to do then. I spent the summer skating, surfing, and at my summer job cleaning up the cut off wood scraps at a construction site. I went back to school in the fall and what did I find? Several of the gang punks had copied my shoes! They went and bought vans and mis matched them and wore them at school. And so was I wearing my mismatched vans. This was at the time that incredibly stupid band called the Eagles was popular and they had a song in which one of the lyric hooks was "...once you started wearing those shoes..." And this gang jerk would sing that line at me when ever I walked by. It really pissed me off. I said you jerks have nothing better to do than co-opt my surfer look into your stupid gang look? This was also about the time I began to study the cello and the classical music scene I was entering was a bit stuffy. They saw the mis matched Vans as distasteful thing that should not be worn by a youthful serious cello student. The classical guitar teacher could have cared less, he had a Beatles haircut in 1978. He had no room to talk. But the classical violin world people looked askance at my funny shoes, and I was shunned. Funny thing is later, a few years later, classical concert artists began to wear more brash clothing, a few flamboyant pianists began to concertize wearing costumes just short of an Elton John get up. And much later, some nostalgia grabbed me one day around 2003 or 2004. I as getting a coffee to go while on my way driving to a job and went into a skate shop in Haight Ashbury in San Francisco. I tried to buy a pair of the canvas panel two color Vans I used to wear and there were none. All they stocked were these ugly, horrid skate shoes that looked like basketball shoes on LSD and dipped in rotten catfood. I asked the young clerk if it were possible to get a pair of two color canvas panel Vans ordered and the little freak said: "Hey Grampa, nobody wears those anymore." It was humiliating. I wanted to say: "Hey you F-ing little creep, I was skating pools in So Cal before you were swimming in your dad's twisted and blue nutsack, you f-ing f- wit." Of course this would have confirmed for that young and very rude sales person that I was indeed in his mind, at age 39 or 40, over the hill.
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https://www.stephenfaulkguitars.com
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Date Sep. 21 2015 1:25:45
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