dawn

Step dad did have good parts to him.

I really paint him out as a monster, and when I was little and mom was working weekend nights, shit man, he was.

But there’s stories I leave out..

When I was twelve,and I started playing guitar, we went to shop for Justin’s first axe.

Brick and mortar store, long before the internet.

And I had my eye on this Mexican Strat, an inferior model, cheaper wood, cheaper parts, cheaper labor,, still playable in the $400 range.

It was candy apple red, with a maple neck that I didn’t really like, but it was affordable.

The pretty girl that isn’t too pretty to get..

Four hundred bucks,, this is going to be my first..

But step dad came around the corner with this Excalibur , this shining ,gorgeous,unbelievable piece of human craftsmanship.

American..

The best wood, the best parts, the best craftsmanship..

I remember the light dancing off the hardware, and I remember staring into the translucent blue finish and tracing the wood grain with my eyeballs.

SO beautiful.

I think car collectors see something special with the same eye.

Gorgeous.

Breathtaking..

But I eyed the price tag..

$1200.

In 1996.

Far too valuable.

I knew I wasn’t worthy of it and there was no chance.

But that was the one.

He selected it (paid with mom’s money too)

He was proud that my hands wanted to do this thing.

And that was his love language.

Buying some shit for someone means you care,,

And he did change over the years, and he wasn’t the same drunk monster.

ANd to be fair, I know I was an irritating fuckin kid..

Too many questions, too much curiosity,,

But I loved this thing. ANd i still love this thing.

And I’m afraid that if that love disappears then I will too.

I didn’t get a car.

I had no hopes of college.

I rebelled sincerely and had my guitar taken away, for years… but he chose it.

He chose my hope and my Excalibur, he’s the reason I cling to the coolest fucking guitar in the world. He’s the reason I get to form this special relationship to an inanimate object…

Maybe we’re all monster and decent folk at the same time.

Lot of grey. No black and white.

(Through the blue)

It is a very special item.

I don’t know if I’d kill over it, but I’d absolutely fight, fight in a rage. Seeing red. Everything you got.

Take the guitar and I’ll fuck you up..

There are no others like it, not for me. No connection so true, no history so pure. The vehicle to the floaty zone,,and If I never found that place?

I would not be the same person.

Not by a longshot.

I’m glad that I care.

—–

Everything else, I bought myself.

Through work and time and all that.

I know it’s just stuff.

And who cares?

But whatever thing you love,I love this stuff too.

Just like you do.

—

A bit of a personal story,but there’s no rules in here.

—-

This is a pretty good mic, the “Lewitt LCT440 Pure-Vida”

I’ll need another one if I want to record stereo cabs, or I could use the Shure am-58’s.

I already have two of those..

But the Lewitt is pretty good.

I put on headphones last night and did some testing.

It’s weird.

Hearing your own voice so clearly.

Reminds you that you do not speak correctly.

Like the way people are supposed to speak.

Less mumbling, volume stability ,etc..

Talking is weird.

You are basically a musical instrument.

ANd you nevvvver even think about it.

And when I finally build the board, I’m going to use a lot of solder and input output jacks.

I’m actually quite good at soldering, steady hand and all that.

Use some heat shrink etc etc etc.

I’d rather have a flat surface, full of input jacks, than cables draped everywhere.

I hate to think of a reality where I didn’t enjoy something this much.

I would be worried about me, if I didn’t have hobbies.

Thank God for hobbies.

(you sound nice)

I really do, maybe not marvelously marketable, but I do sound nice.

Very peaceful.

And when cohabitating with women, always enjoyed the type that would do their own thing and hear me playing as background noise.

It’s a really chill environment.

It like, doesn’t demand attention, you’re just in a peaceful proximity to some background noise.

And I make the background noise nice.

I much prefer that over killing a guitar solo in front of a small crowd.

Different feelings.

Validation and all that.

But my favorite place is when it’s background noise, and the person I was with was reading, or drawing, or just hanging out.

Around, but not focused on what I was doing.

It’s very nice.

—

(You need to sell the stuff you don’t use)

I really do, it’s on my list.

And I don’t want to be a hoarder.

(just lazy)

Yeah.. need to get to it.

Just a chore, I’m not hanging on to this gear because I can’t let go of it, It’s just the hassle of getting rid of it.

—

YouTube Starts feeding me recent clips on the algorithm,

Stories that I would really be interested in..

Dang.