Oh, that's not appropriate.....Hmmmmmm.....let's try something else.
Ahhhh....that's better. If you can listen to the masters play for an hour, then you're all 'bout that bass.
Today I am thankful for rituals.
My step-father bought me a bass after my mother died. I wanted to join a band as the guitar player. No one wanted to be the bass player, so I found myself trying it out. This one had a three digit serial number. It was old. It was heavy. I loved it!
I found myself buying all the disco albums I could find. Then I developed a crush on Sting, Geddy Lee, Peter Cetera, Ben Orr, John Taylor and....shhh.....Michael Anthony. I always had a thing for Bootsy (no secret there). I was excited when Flea made Bootsy's style popular again but that was many years after I began playing. Maybe someday I'll tell you about the guy who tried to seduce me by promising to teach me how to play like Collins.....oooooh.....I guess I attracted sociopaths at a young age. Live and learn.
I hadn't heard anything until I discovered Jazz. Marcus Miller stole my heart.
Oh.....I used to practice four to six hours a day. Oh, how I long for that kind of time now. I didn't want to date because boyfriends tore me away from practicing or jobs (which I needed to earn money for more guitars).
My first bass was a Peavey T-40.
I have a crazy ritual. When I break up with a guy, I always buy myself a bass guitar.
Tom left me so I could pursue college (or so the story goes) back in 1987. To soothe my broken heart and pass the time, I bought myself a five string bass that looked like this....
I didn't like how it sounded. I thought it sounded tinny, even with the round wound strings. I thought it was sleek, unique and fun.....just like Tom. I bought it without getting to see a guy's crotch (like the video). The salesman wasn't a bassist. I played it and bought it. I think that the major selling point is that it is weightless (at least compared to the vintage T-40). I could carry that sucker anywhere!
I enrolled in college and my music theory instructor tried to convince me to play the upright bass. There was always work for classical female bassists. I was too lazy to listen.
I couldn't even drive back then. Seriously....how was I going to take a double bass on a bus?
*********
Ross destroyed my favorite bass because he was angry that I was practicing on Christmas Day. I made him replace it. He took my credit card and spent $1,000 on one of these made of Koa wood. It was in pristine condition unlike the thing in this video. It played like a dream.
Ross was violent. I got tired of being put in the hospital, so I left him and bought another Peavey T-40 for $250 from a kid on campus. This one had a six digit serial number. On the bright side, if anything goes wrong with it, I have plenty of spare parts from my original.
Now.....I wound up giving the Steinberger away to a Lesbian couple in exchange for a place to stay. They, in the goodness of their hearts, donated it to a high school jazz band program.
******
I married Michael. He was bullying some poor bass player who became incredibly depressed. I gave him the Peavey Dyna-Bass, hoping to get him to get back into playing. He sold it for drugs.
What an idiot!
Before you call me an idiot for giving it away, my kind act was witnessed by a guy selling his house. He knocked $10,000 off of the purchase price in a tight market.
That act paid for itself many times over.
I still haven't bought a new bass to mark the end of my relationship with Michael. I was waiting for him to move out of the house before doing so. He hasn't left yet....so....I'm still waiting.
I think he's trying to be a stand up guy....trying...despite stealing money and being dishonest. He's trying. So, to symbolize the relationship, I am eyeing a stand up bass.
Now....when it comes to Steve...I don't know.
That relationship was a bit....
shall we say....
weird.
I don't know if I should get myself a bass.
I asked my friends about it.
I have a dear friend who often found herself attacked by Steve. He was so rude to her that her boyfriends had attack him until he left her alone.
She was one of many friends that Steve had attacked. To this day, I fail to understand why he did that. Steve said it was because he wanted to belong to our group. I thought inviting him along was a form of inclusion but maybe it wasn't in his eyes.
Now, in retrospect, I think he was trying to ruin my relationships with my friends in order to isolate me. It didn't work.
So.....I had no clue what to buy to symbolize the end of that relationship.
I'm still not sure.
It was weird....
It was strange....
The music we made was foreign..
So, one of my friends made a suggestion.
I present to you what I am trying to find in my mid-western town:
I am told that I can always buy a Sitar Swami pedal and 6-string guitar failing my ability to find a decent Sitar in town.
What do you think?
I still think a kuzoo is a better choice.
I find Indian music relaxing. I can't take Kuzoo music seriously.
On the bright side, if I buy the Sitar, I will be too busy learning to play it to date anyone. That ought to help my heart heal.
Love ya,
S.
Maybe I should listen to this before whipping out the black candles....
See?
Indian music is relaxing. Isn't it? Maybe a sitar is the way to go.