All Hail the Pointy Headstock

You will notice that title of my latest blog post is somewhat deceiving. I mean, you were probably all ready to read something about my latest networking magic or some job hunting moxie. Well, today’s post is going to be a tad more selfish (although, all the other posts have been about me so they could be considered selfish as well). Today I’ll be writing about a true love. Yes, the pointy headstock bass guitar.

Let me explain.

When I was a young pup growing up in a very musical household, I tried several musical instruments before I settled on playing the bass. There was the one week intensive playing drums, the occasional noodling on the acoustic guitar, the three hour piano lesson and finally the concentrated six month banjo dream (somehow, Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water just didn’t sound as cool on a banjo as it did on the low E string of a guitar).

My oldest bother played drums; my other older brother played the guitar so they encouraged me to pick up the bass so we could be like the Partridge Family but on mushrooms. I was soon hooked (on the playing bass not mushrooms) and off to the bedroom to practice I went.

My first two basses we OK (an old 70s Kramer bass with an aluminum neck and then a pearl white Aria bass – hey I was totally digging on John Taylor from Duran Duran at the time!) and they were adequate for playing the occasional Judas Priest or AC/DC song; but something was missing.

I longed for a pointy headstock bass.

In the 1980s, you could not swing a bottle of Aqua Net without hitting a pointy headstock guitar. They were everywhere. It was March of 1986 when I first wandered into that Sam Ash music store in Paramus and low and behold my eyes were transfixed on a beautiful black pointy headstock bass hanging on the wall. I flipped my frosted glam metal hair out of my eyes while my cut off RATT concert shirt barely clung to my 98 lb body over my ridiculous cut up acid wash jeans and white untied wrestling sneakers (come on, we were all there at some point!) as she hung on the wall in all of her black high gloss glory – a double cut away body with a P/J pick up configuration, a rosewood fingerboard and then the wonderful black pointy headstock. I was hooked. After some careful negotiation about the value of my trade in (the Aria bass - sorry!) and the amount of cash I was to pony up, she came home with me and we bonded.

Wow.

Over the last 24 years, me and that pointy headstock bass played gigs in dorm rooms, apartments, dive bars, outdoor BBQ’s, New York City, gymnasiums, honky-tonks, Staten Island, Philadelphia, strip bars, Halloween parties, Friday nights, Saturday nights, two dollar beer night, New Years Eve parties, one US Army base, three dollar Kamikaze night, one art gallery opening, Sunday afternoons, freshman orientation night, the night before Thanksgiving night, narrowly missed opening for Quiet Riot night,… whew! The list goes on.

As the years went by, I gravitated to other basses but she was always there waiting to come out and play but she was in need of some major repairs. This year I finally got her spruced up and ready for action. I got her a new neck, cleaned her up and now she is competing with my other basses to get out. It’s like she never left. She is totally broken in, scratched up, beaten down and yet still sounds great. In all the years we played together, she never once let me down.

Welcome home pointy head stock bass. I can’t wait to talk about you when I finally land a new job.

(BTW, that is me playing the pointy headstock bass somewhere, I think in 1989, I think. Maybe it was 1991... Just not sure...)

Volunteer to Volunteer

As part of my networking process, it was suggested that maybe ‘volunteering’ would be a great way to network. Well, there have been too many days of sitting in front of my laptop, breathing the recycled air while staring at the refrigerator – time to get out. So, to up the ante on my networking, I recently applied to volunteer at the head quarters of the Seeing Eye, a dog training facility in Morristown, that trains Labrador Retrievers and German Sheppard’s to be guide dogs.

And, they said Yes!

Now, you just don’t volunteer at a place like the Seeing Eye and expect to get a cushy volunteer gig, just doesn’t work that way. My first day was grocery shopping. Yes, grocery shopping. The Seeing Eye brings in 24 brand new ‘students’ every five months to train them with their new guide dog and sometimes there are certain items that the students wish to have. That’s where I come in. I met Carl, the head of Hospitality (who is a wonderful guy) and he gave me a food and beverage list. Having had experienced being a Stay at Home Dad for a year, I felt I was perfect for the job. Carl handed me the list, wished me luck and off I went. I was buying things like deodorant, spiffy toothpaste, alcohol and the occasional bag of Muncho’s.

Got it all.

I did have to go to three different places but it was worth it. The highlight of the excursion was when I was returning – As I was driving back to the HQ, I saw trainers and guide dogs with their new students walking for the first time in our little busy town. It was awesome. I felt really good about giving back. Well, it went so smoothly, that they have asked me to come back in a few Mondays to do it all over again. I absolutely agreed. It did make me stop and wonder though – here I am, unemployed and looking for work and these folks are just trying to get through their day. And now, with the assistance of a new guide dog, life should be easier.

Glad to see that the Universe is taking care of some folks who could use it.