Watch Out Neighbors!

I just got a new (old) guitar, and I'm going to learn how to play it!

My husband and I have been guitar shopping for, well, most of the time we've been together. First we were searching for an electric guitar to replace the well-worn Fender Stratocaster he'd been playing since he was a kid. That journey lasted nearly two years during which we trolled fancy guitar stores stocked with dinged up vintage Telecaster Thinlines and shiny cherry burst Gibson 335s, crummy guitar stores crammed with cheap Fender Squiers and, usually, at least one classy Epiphone Zakk Wylde Les Paul Custom. It was fun, playing all those guitars!

So when I decided I was ready to take the plunge and get a small acoustic guitar of my own, we started the process again.

We already have a big, boomy Martin dreadnought, but it is better suited to bluegrass hootenannies and too unwieldy for me to learn on. I wanted something small, cheap enough that we'd feel okay tossing it in the backseat of a car or leaving it perched next to the couch. I wanted a guitar that sounded beautiful and would age well. Small, cheap, sounds good - a tall order.

We played parlor guitars, both vintage and new, but they fell short on sound, ringing with a boxiness that felt wimpy and closed-in.

We played cheap and mid-priced Taylors, Takemines and Alvarezes, but they were all too blahhh... mousy-haired wallflowers.

We were tempted, so tempted, by a stunning 1941 spruce top Kalamazoo with guts and mojo and soul. Oh, that Kalamazoo!

The winner? A Gibson B15 from early 1968, a tender, sweet little mahogany acoustic guitar that I like to think was strummed by an earnest young folksinger with long blond hair and a peasant blouse, in parks, university courtyards, at protests, around campfires.

And I love it!

Jessica Thompson
Midnight Confessions

I tend to misinterpret lyrics. I'm a glass-half-full kind of girl, so it's easy for me to ignore lyrical nuance and assume everything's about love and happiness.

For example, in the song Midnight Confessions, by the Grass Roots, I tend to skip over this bit:

There's another before me / I'm wasting my time / You'll never be mine...

In favor of:

When I tell all the world that I love you!

Apparently, I'm a minor offender. Take the wedding DJ. I've provided music for a few wedding myself, and I've fought with, ignored, scoffed at and cheered many wedding DJs, all of whom will whip out songs with decidedly unromantic lyrics just to fill the dance floor.

I once got a request for Marvin Gaye's I Heard It Through The Grapevine (not much longer would you be mine). Just this weekend, I danced to Human League's Don't You Want Me (...but now I think it's time I lived my life on my own....)

On the other hand, I raised an eyebrow at a request for The Book Of Love (is long and boring...) by the Magnetic Fields, and, upon closer reading of the lyrics, (I love it when you read to me... you can read me anything...) it is kind of romantic.

Maybe this is a lesson in preserving marital bliss. Don't look too closely at the lyrics. Sometimes, the beat that drives you to the dance floor is all you need.

Jessica Thompson
iTunes Shuffle 6

I performed a little hard drive maintenance yesterday and made a separate iTunes library for my hard drive based music (as opposed to the stuff that lives on my laptop). On that hard drive? A whopping 9767 songs, or 25 days worth of music.

Cleaning up iTunes has enabled me to search for stuff I'd forgotten I had, including:

10 songs with Sarah (or Sara) in the title, gathered when I was making a mix for my little sister, Sarah. Represented: Starship, Bob Dylan, Alice Cooper, Ween, Hall & Oates.

4 versions of Mr. Sandman, from my brief obsession with that song.

Want to know what popped up when I hit shuffle? Neither Sarah nor Sandman, but Justin Hayward's Forever Autumn from the 70s musical version of The War Of The Worlds. I recall the first few times (of many!) I heard that gorgeous chord progression. A few years back, this song might have sparked a panic attack. I worked many, many, many long hours on the deluxe 2005 reissue, and as a result, I can say "Martian" in several languages, in stereo, SACD and 5.1 surround.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7vfjJHcfeE&hl=en]

Jessica Thompson