Road trip

I have dreams of buying an electric, so I'm keeping an eye out for used axes at the same time that I take breaks by surfing for the dream guitar. Naturally, how could I not want to at least try out a replica Red Special by Brian May Guitars? Well, in a truly crushing testament to Queen's not-as-hallowed-as-they-should-be status in the U.S., there are four dealers in the entire country who carry the Mays. One is in Rockford, IL. Rent a car and hit I-90? Not today, but maybe someday. It might almost be easier to wait till the next time I'm in San Francisco or England.

They even make a "Mini May" for travel... or hopeless folks like me. But I think with an electric, I can get a full size. The thin neck will help my small hands.

ETA: Dealer in Tokyo. Maybe I'll stop there in September.

Uncharted waters

I really do enjoy practicing, no matter how painful it is -- and make no mistake, it does get painful. I wonder if I'm pushing too hard with my thumb on the back of the neck. Maybe the muscles just have to develop.

Tonight I decided that I was getting into a rut, so I tried a few barre chords, said oh jesus, and went back to power chords. I ventured onto the fifth string, which I found exceedingly difficult. I blame my teeny tiny pinky. I went back to the 1-2-3 fingering I was using originally, then at the end of practice discovered that thanks to the book not numbering the fingering on that tab only, and me getting confused by them calling the index finger 1, I was supposed to be using 1-3-4. I swore, tried it out, found it easier, and was happy for a second till I realized that a pinky callus was going to have to develop. Tomorrow the new pain begins.

The fifth string power chord I tried was C#, which also takes me further down the neck than I have hitherto gone. Not bad, though trying to look at a tab and the neck and my picking at the same time does lead to some sour chords. It nicely fills out a couple of the songs I've been playing.

Incidentally, in a measure of how far I've come, I tried "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" the other night. When I optimistically tried it two days in, I thought it was impossible. Now, managed to follow along half respectably. Rockabilly, dude.

Bohemian rhapsody

From my brother, re the mandolin dubbed Peri:

I think I bought it on the famous Old Arbat Street bohemian district in Moscow, thus in mid-July 1991. That's the same place where the guy did my portrait, an old Arbat tradition. The portraiters were out in force when I was there again last summer, as were the guys selling paintings. I bought kvas from a stall and wandered around, went into a couple of souvenir shops and a church, and decided against all the overpriced tourist trap eateries. (By the way, back in '91 I got back three weeks, not three days before the attempted coup against Gorbachev.)

He's off to Munich, so I'll have to wait to ask him if he got it from a guy with a thousand mandolins to sell, or a sort of antique/vintage shop/stand. The second would obviously bode much better for the mandolin's construction quality.

The perfect rosette

I read a fairly interesting book with a bland title (Guitar: An American Life) by Tim Brookes, which intersperses the story of the construction of his custom-made acoustic with the history of the instrument. Brookes does fairly well with the history until the twentieth century. I think the amount of compression he has to do there overwhelms his writing skills, which are strongest in the descriptive writing about the wood and loving craftsmanship of the luthier, Rick Davis of Vermont. The intricacy of the craftsmanship is fascinating and extremely educational, and so are some of Brookes' chosen historical anecdotes, but I think he's best as an essayist. His agony when his chosen rosette (the decorative yet functional ring of wood around the sound hole) turns out not to be quite what he had envisioned is hilariously memorable.

Heavy handed

I need to work a little on the strumming. I realized tonight that I was making "Scarborough Fair" sound like a dirge.

More experimentation?

I am informed by a poster on Mandolin Cafe that the bridge on Peri (short for Perestroika -- how quickly a name sticks) is in the wrong place; it and the nut should be equidistant from the 12th fret. Normally, I might think that there are other variables, etc., but what makes me really suspicious is that the bridge, if it were in the right place, would be right across the onion dome of the church drawn on the top. So I thought, initially, that this meant that I was doomed.

However, further googling tells me that mandolins have movable bridges. There's talk of things like 'setup' and 'moving' and 'placement.' Perhaps there's hope after all. I shall take two sets of extra-light gauge mandolin strings to NJ in a spirit of hopefulness.

Peri is, apparently, a Portuguese-style shallow bowl-back.

Getting overambitious

This is the mandolin that my brother bought in the Soviet Union/CIS in 1992 (right before it became not that any more -- as a matter of fact, if I recall correctly, he came home three days before Yeltsin's coup). So it's a piece of specific history. I don't know much about it. I will have to ask him exactly when and where he bought it, as it could have been anywhere along his route. He also bought some assorted Soviet-ish memorabilia, a very nice portrait of himself that my parents still have hanging up, a Gorbachev matrushka doll that has all the previous Soviet leaders inside (the tiniest one is the last czar!), and two of those bobbling wooden dolls that stand up when you tip them over.

I haven't looked at this mandolin in years, though I've been talking about doing something with it on and off for years, but my dad sent me photos at my request so I could think about whether it was playable, and my faithful friend Brent took a look and said he thinks it might be. A quick google tells me that the top wood, which you can't see but has a very straight grain, is quite probably beech or birch. The bridge is probably maple. In other words, it might not be the piece of crap I remember it being. It's a bowl-back, as you might guess. I'm going to take good strings and see what I can do with it in NJ. My real fear is that the tuners just won't hold tune. We'll see.

I've never been one to name inanimate objects other than stuffed animals when I was a child, but I almost feel like this one needs a name. Perestroika, maybe?

This little piggy...

My friend showed me a better way to do power chords with the pinky holding down the bottom two notes. And by better, I have decided that I mean more painful. Just as I had gotten the hang of the other way -- I find that my pinky is absolutely incapable of holding down two strings. It is abnormally short and normally weak. It held me back all through piano, and I am determined that it won't do the same here, however many years it may take.

Added "Scarborough Fair" to the lineup. Very pleasing. I could hardly hear Simon and Garfunkel over the rattle of my A/C window unit, of course, but this probably has the added benefit of drowning me out to the new neighbors. They haven't complained, by the way. I think maybe they can't hear the guitar.

But really must get in more single-string picking practice.

The twisted claw

I think that's the title of a Hardy Boys book, but it also somewhat describes my left hand. I kind of figured out the power chord stretch, so today I decided to put it into use, finding that having the f# power chord gave me a yet more satisfying rendition of "Crazy." And that, ladies and gentlemen, finally made my hand cramp. I had been happily surprised that nothing but my fingertips was in pain, but I have entered a new phase.

I ended a long practice session -- fingertips hardening a bit -- by going back to "I'm in Love with My Car," which is my comfort song now, but making myself use all G power chords. Ow. I'm typing this to loosen the kinks.

Incidentally, the warm weather seems to be playing havoc with my tuning. I had to stop and retune twice. Most unusual. That's what happens when your apartment is not really climate controlled. Wait till I start turning the window unit on and off... it's a good thing I bought a cheap guitar. I'd better pick up a hardshell case tomorrow; that might help soften the temperature blows.

Precision and power

The good news is that my open chords are getting wildly better. I realized that I forgot to learn D minor, but that was quickly fixed and led to a highly satisfying rendition of Aerosmith's "Crazy." I also was delighted this weekend when playing my friend's full-size Takamine and realizing that my skills were improving. As a matter of fact, I managed to switch chords without looking at my fretting hand, a pinnacle of success I had not dared to dream of so soon. We will pass over the fact that his dog went and hid in the other room while I was playing, after enduring it the first time.

Tonight, I decided to build on this success by learning the power chords. I have entered a whole new world of pain. First of all, if there is a theoretical equivalent to power chords in classical piano, I most certainly never learned its name. This is a minor blip. Secondly, the stretch required between the index and middle finger is beyond awkward. I'm back to thanking god that I bought a 3/4 size guitar; also going to have to do regular stretches.

Going forward and backward

Cutting practice down to once a day, and a short practice yesterday at that, definitely gave the fingertips some rest, but I just flayed them nicely with spirited renditions of "Crazy," "Amazing," and two repetitions of "I'm in Love with My Car." Did I mention that I'm getting new upstairs neighbors? Wish them luck. The repertoire will expand eventually, but considering that they have to be songs that can be done with a lot of open chords and that I already own or can readily find on YouTube, I'm not complaining.

I found that I was using the pad of my ring finger, and had to cut the nail so I could get right on the tip. Just as I've stopped picking at my nails and they're growing nicely, what do you know? I start cutting them ruthlessly.

I'm also going to return to picking out single-note melodies. My picking could use the practice, and I haven't made the progress on knowing where the notes are on the neck that I would like.

Curb your enthusiasm

Forcing myself not to play this morning. I think I'd better cut down to once a day for a few days. The fingertips are really not so great. I thought playing twice a day might toughen them up faster, and I don't doubt that that's true... if I could ignore the nerve endings. I'm also doing the Clapton thing now, rubbing alcohol a few times a day.

Yeah, baby!

Aerosmith, "Amazing." Sight reading, cold. It was a mess, but I got through!

F is improving. Wearing a bandaid on my middle finger, which helps the pain but decreases accuracy.

F---

F major is hard.

Five and ow

A, C, D, Em, G.

D the hardest by far.

One chord at a time

I progress. I really ought to go back to "Do a Deer," because I'll say one thing for it, it really was giving me a solid sense of where the notes are. However, people seem big on chords, so I've started learning the major chords. I am up to G, D, and C, which lends me the ability to play "Go Cubs Go." It's not bad practice at moving your hand around, either.

G/D/C also gives you plenty of the chords to Queen's "I'm in Love with My Car," though I'm so slow that I don't quite hit everything on time. Amazing what a difference a day makes, though. Two days ago, I could only hit about two chords per verse and kept shouting at Roger (Taylor, the drummer, who sang lead on this song -- extremely underestimated vocalist) to slow down. But today I can hit about two a line. Not always on time, but still...!

Then I got the bright idea to try "Crazy Little Thing Called Love," which is full of major chords. Ha. Do you know how fast that song's tempo is?

As I always say when eating dim sum, it's a marathon, not a sprint. More practice. Today, maybe another chord. A or B, I think.

The axe

Everything moved so fast that I never gave an adequate description of the guitar itself, or the buying process. First I tried Old Town School of Music's shop, Different Strummer, where my choices were between a very cheap 3/4 that sounded like rubber bands on a box or a $350-ish black Martin. I went to the Guitar Center in Lincoln Park and headed straight for the acoustics, found the travel sizes in a little back room, and settled on a stool to try them one by one, along with several other reasonably small guitars. To my great relief, the salesman was friendly and unobtrusive, even tuning a guitar at my request and then going away. How do you try a guitar out? Well, you play what you know. Let's just say that I never want to hear myself play "Do a Deer" ever again.

I ended up buying the Yamaha JR-1 "mini folk guitar," a 3/4 size with a spruce top, mahogany back and sides, and rosewood fretboard. It came with an unpadded gig bag with small handles, fairly useless. I also bought a cheap strap that I detest already, because it's too slippery, and Dunlop picks. I passed over the Fender travel Squier, which didn't have as rich a tone, and according to the salesman doesn't hold tune as well as the Yamaha.

Here's the baby when I was partway through the harrowing restringing process.

The nervous parent

I wish to god I'd seen Brent's comment below offering help before I tried to restring tonight. I am limp with exhaustion. All strings more or less successfully restrung with the help of this video:



My major fault: not leaving enough slack for a decent amount of winds. And I tried to fix this as I went on, but no matter how much slack I left, there was never enough. Next time I'll probably go to extremes. I hope this won't hurt too much, other than needing to retune every ten minutes.

Also: going on the wish list is a string winder with a pin puller and wire cutter. I don't mind the string winding, but using pliers and cloth to get the pins out is not fun and scrapes up the pins. And without a wire cutter, I currently have huge curlicues of wire at the head, done with a penny and cloth.

OK. Now for a few exhausted chords. Tomorrow is another day. Took a pic. Will try to post.

eta: The new strings are D'Addario (someone tell me why people pronounce it Di-Addaro) Phosphor Bronze, light gauge. They do sound lovely compared to the factory strings, as crappily as I strung them. I also got a backup set of Martins. I'm not dumb. I knew I would screw it up. I just didn't know if it would be crucially. Paid retail, though. Next time, the internet.

Already in trouble

Bought a guitar. Broke a string.

It was my fault. I was tuning pitched waaay too high. Broke the high E. Another trot down to Guitar Works tomorrow. David told me not to be such a Sound of Music wuss and restring it myself.

Very traumatic, dropping the baby right after bringing it home.

Guitar trek

Just got back from Guitar Works in Evanston. I had called ahead to make sure they carried low-end travel acoustics, but when I got there... all rented. I did try a used old Gibson ($425) that I fell instantly in love with. I walked away very quickly.

Let's hope the afternoon brings more luck.

Taking the plunge

I almost bought a guitar today in Tampa before I left. My friend and I stopped at a Guitar Center on the way to the airport, and they had an $89 used Aria travel-size acoustic. I'm looking for a travel-size because, well, I travel a lot. It'll also be easier to learn on, since I have small hands. Prices vary, but online, I've seen well-reviewed travel guitars for $129/$149, a Fender Squier and a Yamaha. I couldn't quite face buying a guitar and case and then throwing it straight into checked luggage, though, so tomorrow I'll be popping down to the Guitar Center in Lincoln Park. Hopefully, they'll have something similar. I'll post photos of the baby as soon as I can.

Even worse

Scales, "Do a Deer," and "Edelweiss."

Really not rock'n'roll

Today was more scales. I think I'm starting to get the hang of it, and I bitterly regret my extreme laziness at memorizing the scales as a child. I'm going about this starting phase very methodically. I feel the need to know what notes I'm playing instead of learning the chords by pressing a memorized set of frets. It's going to be slow. I feel like I'm looking at six sets of staggered keyboards.

I took a break by playing "Do a deer" from The Sound of Music off an internet tab. I thought my friend was going to cry. He said it was not very rock'n'roll.

My first time

This morning, I played a guitar for the first time.

It was my friend's steel-stringed Yamaha acoustic, which was temptingly sitting against the wall next to the coffeetable with a pick tucked into its strings. Plunk. I found this great guide to guitar notes on my netbook and proceeded to plunk away till my friend got back from the gym and gave me the mnemonic for the strings, "Easter Bunnies Get Drunk At Easter."

By the evening, he'd decided that I needed to try some chords. It wasn't pretty, but I got to mess around with his electric. The night ended with me playing the bass line to "Under Pressure" with a delighted grin on my face the whole time. It wasn't pretty... but it felt awesome.