As of today, I have:
20 cbg's,
14 stick dulcimers,
4 lap dulcimers,
2 acoustic dreadnought guitars,
3 bass guitars,
4 electric guitars,
6 resonator guitars,
2 parlor guitars,
1 tenor guitar,
1 classical guitar.
1 trace cubano guitar,
3 banjos,
3 native american flutes,
and a clarinet.
This is not counting the assorted odds and ends I'm messing about with...
Also,
7 amps,
2 portable audio recorders,
2 usb mikes.
The question is this:
SHOULD I BE COMMITTED?
These are some great sites that I have stumbled across that I dont want to lose. Hopefully others might find them useful. These are not specific CBG sites but rather amature luthier and Uke sites that I felt I could learn from and apply the information.
This woman is a school teacher who builds guitars during her summer holidays. Awesome site with a tour of her workshop, links to luthier supply shops & Jig ideas I spent about an hour on this site and there is so much to go through.
Kinda makes sense to me. That a new build or any stringed instrument that has been laying idle goes 'dead' tonally. So the readers digest version of this is that you attach the gizmo near the bridge and leave it on high for 24 hours and then low for the next 6 days and it is like playing in a guitar. I opens up the grain of the timber and allows the guitar to resonate with itself more. From what I have read if you have a guitar that is used a lot it is not going to make any major difference but for ones that have not been played much there seems to be a noticable difference. Expensive gizmo but apparently anything that vibrates like small old fans with the blade taken off can work too... So these links are just for the concept & then finding something cheap you can build yourself to do the same job.
ToneRite ToneRite Video before and after 1 week treatment
Here is another great idea - I think I like it better... Use those devices that you can get for your ipod or phone to turn anything into a speaker.. this guy has glued silcon rubber on the bottom of them so they won't damage the finish of your intrument.
Prime Vibe Transducer Speakers Vibe Holic cheap version from Hong Kong or search Vibration Speaker in your own country.
Slowly catching up with my backlog....2 Stellas just gone out after being with me for neck resets and general overhaul, a 1920's/30s Oscar Schmidt and a 1950s Harmony.
And this just finished today..a ResoCaster, flame maple over mahogany, Bill Lawrence blade humbucker
Now to get on with some cigar box guitars...
Considerations for Selecting a Bottleneck Slide for Guitar
Materials
Glass - In my opinion, glass tends to offer the best tone due to it's density. Thick wall quality glass from a wine bottleneck has a desirable heavier weight than the lighter glass found on beer bottles.
Metal - Brass or steel are the most common. Metal has the advantage of not breaking if accidentally dropped. Avoid light weight thin wall slides. They tend to float on the strings, instead of riding correctly and produce a weak tone.
Bone - Serious Mojo factor. Bone tends to be slightly softer / not so bright, but with more of a haunting tone. Mississippi Fred McDowell wore a beef bone ring.
Ceramic/Porcelain - The material varies. Usually lighter in weight, but still dense. They tend to be surprisingly bright.
Size
I prefer a snug fit. Some like it loose and floppy. Knowing my pinky ring size is a 9 (3/4") makes selecting possible options for slides easy by simply measuring the opening for my finger. BTW: Never stick your finger in a bottle. The vacuum will cause your finger to get stuck. LOL
Length
I like the slide to be long enough that it is possible to bar across all the strings. Cigar Box guitars with 3 or 4 strings have fingerboards not as wide as a standard 6 string. A stubby slide may be better.
Which Finger?
I would suggest using the pinky or ring. This allows for usage of the other fingers to play notes and bar chords. Although, if you were going to be playing mainly lead guitar while being backed by a band, the middle or index can work too.
Making your own Slide
Search the internet for other instructions. Laying the bottle on it's side, I simply drew a line around the bottleneck where I wanted to cut it. Using a hacksaw, I cut while turning the bottle round and round. After a long time, this created a stress point and the bottle just snapped. Then using crocus cloth, I polished the lip smooth. There are much better easier methods, but this worked for me.
My Collection
A - Vintage Mateus Wine: Made by me in the 1980s.
B - Keni Lee Model: Made by www.ebay.com Search: willy's slides
C - BonerZ: Made by www.ebay.com Search: bonerz slide
D - Mojobone Works: Made by www.facebook.com Search: Randy Bretz
E - Titanium Bottleneck: Made by Bill Helferich
F - 3/4" Deep Well Socket: Cut down to reduce weight by Bill Helferich
G - Dunlop Rev Willy's: commercially available
H - Vintage Brown Glass Pill Bottle: Flea market find
I - 1970s Brass: Made by Mighty Mite (like used by Sam Mitchell)
Lessons
Instructional Video CDs with email student support
CD 1 - CD 3: Open D and G tuning on 6 string guitar (CD 1, 3 string CBG too)
CD 4 - CD 6: 3 and 4 string Cigar Box guitar
www.ebay.com Search: keni lee
Last weekend I was alone walking around Boston's North End waiting for my wife and girls to arive in the city. I stepped into Copp's Hill Burying Ground and I was almost immediately inspired to write the following lyrics. Now I just need the appropriate tune to go with it.
Time Stands Still on the Burying Ground
Death heads on the stones
Marking spaces for ashes and bones
Was a young man walking round
He heard the voices whisper
time stands still
on the burying ground
Since 1600 years
Copp's Hill drowned in tears
400 years some bodies in the ground
He heard the voices whisper
time stands still
on the burying ground
Same here today
As the sad day in May
When they laid two sick children in the ground
He heard the voices whisper
time stands still
on the burying ground
Time has passed around the trees
And the old fence marking a boundary
Leaving it's mark on all that surround
He heard the voices whisper
time stands still
on the burying ground
Death heads on the stones
Marking spaces for ashes and bones
Was an old man walking round
He heard the voices whisper
time stands still
on the burying ground
The dates set and the venues booked to take the Leadfoot sound out to the masses. Myself along with Fast Fingers "The Bass"ment Dore (Pro Bassist Kevin Dore) will be playing a 45 min set this Sunday (6th May) at the Dover Priory Hotel in aid of Help for Heroes and The MS Society. These are two great charities both dear to our hearts! The day starts at 14:00 and runs on till late with other bands / musicians playing through out the day and into the night. We will grace the stage to stomp, scream and howl the Leadfoot grit and gravel rock blues set around 15:00!
Keep rocking,
T
So, Ive played a few more gigs with the cigar box and the 'hilarious' comments still get wheeled out. ' Where did you get that ?, Is it real ? ' Then you play it and the clowns with the big voices shut up...ah well, goes with the territory.
If your in the Studley area on the 15th of this month, check out the Royal Oak pub. We are having a Cigar Box evening, including Chickenbone and a ' special guest '.
More details to follow.
My first attempt to build a Cigar Box Fiddle. I would like to craft everything myself, even the fingerboard. Hopefully the sound justifies the effort..
I got this old balalaika from my grandma and after a closer look I decided it needs a new finish. I mean it was in a horrible condition. There's a sticker inside that says 1982 and something else in russia. Im pretty sure it says "No sandpaper was harmed in the making of this instrument". If you think chinese guitars are bad quality you should see these. Anyways here's a few pictures before the re-finish.
Notice the awful orange figure.
The frets were in pretty bad shape. Totally unplayable.
The finish was also quite poor.
Since this was in such a bad condition, I was quite optimistic about the job ahead. I mean, I can't possibly make it any worse.. The first thing that had to go was the orange tribal figure. I thought I'd sand it off and maybe use some water slide decals to make better looking black ones. But much to my surprise, this happened.
The wood hasn't darkened under the figures. I could have sanded more and gotten rid of that but i thought it looked great. Much more subtle.
I sanded the frets with some wet sanding paper and polished them with 0000 steel wool.
I decided to remove the black paint also and put some stain in the fretboard.
Headstock after couple coats of tru-oil. The whole thing is now drying and waiting to be stringed. I will post a picture when it's ready.
Tuners are back.
I used some steel wool on the back of the body and put one thin layer of tru-oil on it. Neck has also tru-oil finish. Brushed with steel wool for a satin feel.
All done.
This cigar box guitar caper has pretty much taken over my time nowadays...although nominally I still have a day-job...it's very much in the background these days. I managed to get a late booking at the Barnsley Guitar Show...so pressure is on to get some stock made..but how hard can that be?.... 8 or so guitars and half a dozen stompboxes by the end of the week.
First priority however: I had to make sure I had 24 guitar kits ready for Malc's workshops at the Sweeps festival...so I had to go out, buy all the materials, check my stock for parts and get making 24 boxes and 24 part-finished necks...then put together all the parts, and draft out the HGMC Health and Safety assessment. I make-up a couple of sample guitars as well..it all takes time
Next up was confirming a couple of gig dates for Tinqui8..so more phone calls, facebooking etc...but got that sorted, then drafted-out some posters. Several e-mails and phone calls about Boxstock...more calls and emails from Roosterman, and blimey, that's another morning gone. Still got a list as long as my arm...update Facebook stuff, chase down some sponsorship contacts, order some parts, quote someone for a guitar. Start wiring up 4 guitars.
The next day Hollowbelly dropped by for half an hour on his way back from recording his latest album..I'm really looking forward to it! Back on with the guitar making....install necks in some more guitars...and I've got to get one of HB's guitars overhauled before he's next back in the Midlands in few weeks time.
Thursday sees a few guitars beginning to look like something...so on with the stringing up, cutting bone nuts, bridges and assembly.
Friday..hooray,,two dulcistrummers finished, two guitars ready for final set-up, and another couple of necks having more coats of TruOil on them. 24 hours left to get everything done for this weekend's show.
Saturday morning Malc. calls in to collect his kits, have a natter and drop off the HGMC banner. I'm well impressed with the banner...and Malc has got a nice feature in the Rochester Sweeps programme for the workshops - he's got half the places booked already. We have a quick refresher on the guitar building, I sign off the H&S assessment forms, give him a copy of HGMC public liability insurance (yes, all this grown-up stuff is happening behind the scenes)....and he's on his way home, and I'm back into the workshop.
Saturday evenings sees me doing the final set-up and checking of the guitars, wrapping them, stacking all the gear for a quick load-up in the morning and finishing a few stomper boxes.
Up at 5.00am on Sunday morning, load-up, 100 mile drive, unload and set-up. It's a new location and venue for Ken, of Mojo Guitar Fairs...a typical local authority community centre hall in a village outside Barnsley...nothing glamourous...but it'll do the job. I'm a late booking a spot, so my pitch is on the stage... although it's a prominent position, it's a bit intimidating for punters to step up and have a look. Setting up for one of these things single-handed is tiring, intense, methodical work...I have to transfer a van-load full of stuff into the building, set up the tables, put on the cloths (black denim..very rootsy!), put up the display stands, lighting, set out all the product...guitars, stompboxes, books, bottlenecks CDs, business cards, HGMC leaflets & banner, make sure everything is priced up. Next sort out the computer, power to my amp and PA system, test everything...and I'm just about ready. By now it's 9.40am...just time for a breakfast butty and a cup of coffee...but the doors are open 10 minutes early..so I'm on duty straight away!
Things are very quiet to start with, and Ken asks me to play something and liven things up..so I get a bit of interest, but still no takers..what feels like an eternity passes and no money has changed hands...hmm, this isn't looking like great way to spend a Sunday..and loose £100 to boot! Anyhow...I get my first proper enquiry, a little bit of banter and bartering and the first wedge of folding is in my wallet and a guitar is off my stand..then it starts, a few botlenecks sell, people are watching videos of Ben Prestage and Hollowbelly on the computer...more playing..I get a crowd, some applause... someone asks me to put a guitar aside while they go to the cashpoint. While they are gone, the same thing happens, ten minutes later, the first customer is back with the folding..I write out a reciept, slip a card and a HGMC leaflet under the guitar strings..guitar no 2 is sold. By now I've got a fair number of people milling around, chatting, watching the vids..lots of people chatting, asking about Boxstock, asking if I've got CDs and DVDs. A few people talk to me about building guitars, I explain the basic points of playing 3 string guitar to loads of people..someone has a go..and quickly gets the hang of it...the other customer is back, same routine, reciept, card, HGMC flyer, jot down the tunings on the price tag for the customer. So it goes on...a couple of stompboxes are sold, another guitar, a couple of books..and after a few hours, from a very unpromising start, I've earned a wage and loads more people are enthusiastic about cigar box guitars!
By mid afternoon it's quietend down a bit, and I meet one of the other stall-holders who makes guitars and runs guitar making courses and classes...he says "You know David Ward, don't you?"..of course, that's Smojo, and he's building a ResoElectric guitar with him. Chatting with other people, and other names crop up...Bluesbeaten Redshaw, Catfish Keith, Kevin Brown.. The organiser asks me to do a showcase performance at the next show in Thirsk...also lots of people asking when I'm next up in the area...going on the road like this creates loads of interest, which is good for business, but it also sparks a lot of interest in the whole home grown/cigar box guitar thing. A quick mooch around the show, buy a few sets of machineheads, a string winder and some lemon oil..put a little bit of money back with the other traders, but refrain from buying any guitars from other people...get asked to do some session work by someone...all handy networking.
Then the worst part of the day...taking down the stand, packing away and loading it into the car...by this time I'm tired, and it's really hard work. A 15 minute drive and I'm at my parents for dinner, an hour's break, then another 100 miles back down the slab to Birmingham. Two hours later, back home, unload, then a sit down and a beer...after a fifteen hour working day.
So that was my week, pretty typical when I've got a show on...now to face another working week..but I need a day off!
About a month ago our computer was playing up, so I called Andy our 'Computer Whizz' and asked him to come round and take a look. Remembering that Andy plays guitar, I invited him to have a go on my CBGs. Well he was mightily impressed. ( Humility dictates that I confess, 'none of them were built by me!')
This morning our computer was 'having issues' again (old age!) So I made the call and Andy arrived a short time later with his bag of technical tricks AND his very own CBG.
He picked it up off Ebay for a very good price and it rocks... His excitement was tangible and he plans to use it on a few tracks of his (can't remember the name of the band - old age!) new album.
He's a great bloke and great player and I hope to get some video footage of him playing sometime soon.
Just wanted to share this and encourage you to spread the Joy by spreading the CBG word...
I have a policy now that states 'No one who enters my house shall leave without playing at least one CBG!'
Nuff said...
So while I was sitting at my favorite workbench the other night (2x4 across my knees while I sit on an overturned 5 gallon bucket) I was thinking about what I've learned over 10 or so partial and complete builds. And the major thing comes down to these hard and fast RULES of making a CBG.
And the progress to date on this guitar is below. It isn't perfect, but I wasn't going to sell it anyway. :)
I still have to figure out a bridge/saddle and tailpiece design. The bridge and saddle sit between the Star Wars logo and Vader's head.
There will be no fret inlays on the face of the neck. The Force will guide your hands to the right notes. I hope.
Another Sunday, gigs just played Friday and Saturday. I took the Cigar Box for the first time this weekend and played an hour each night on it, the other two hours regular guitar. We started the set with some CBG, standards like 'Mojo Workin' and 'Shake your money maker'.
What seemed consistent though was that the second the instrument was produced, on both nights, several large and mean looking men looked at me and said 'WHAT THE F**K IS THAT' !!!!! 'YOU CANT PLAY THAT' !!!! 'WE WANT TO SEE A REAL BAND' !!!!! Anyway, after the first two numbers, the same mean looking people come up with beer and say, YOU CAN REALLY PLAY THAT F**KING THING, have a drink. !!!!!
And I got paid at the end of the evening. Free beer and money, happy days.
The rented Mustang was churning up large pieces of the road in south memphis, as the sports car was headed with it's occupant south towards Mississippi. Tyler "skywalker" Jones had rented the car as soon as he arrived earlier this morning in Memphis - since he had a few days before his concert at the FedEx Forum: and promptly headed south towards Clarksdale Mississippi....Home.
Tyler Jones didn't have the radio on in his car, because the truth was; he didn't need it. He was hearing music clearly in his head right now, and it had always been that way. Since tyler could remember, music was always playing in his head. sometimes loud, sometimes soft (like now) in the background - but it was always there. Even though endless guitar, or piano, or harp, or whatever sounds he wanted to hear could "appear" in his ears at any moment, Tyler knew that music was always around us.....in the wind, in the rain, in the leaves brushing against the house in the fall, the birds in the trees, and even the sound of the mustang going powerfully down highway 49 produced a rhythm all it's own. Tyler knew all this.......and he knew that most people in the north mississippi hill country knew this as well......that was the source, the power, behind the fingers of Tyler "skywalker" Jones and he needed to find some more of this power during his couple of days of freedom in Clarksdale.
As Tyler exited Memphis and passed through the casinos of Tunica, he rolled down the windows and let the mississippi smells come back. The heat, along with the smell of the earth brought new music to Tyler - well really it was old familiar music......because even though the music in Tyler's head could be ragtime, pop, soul, jazz at any time he wished it......what Tyler always had going on the background was that pulsating, bass driven beat and thump thump of the blues! Tyler "Skywalker" Jones, number one music artist of the past 7 years - number one in grammys, number one in concert tickets, - playing what many said was a unique blend of blues - rock: well Tyler always woke up to the beat of Mississippi blues in the morning......and no matter how tired he was at night, when his head hit the pillow, he heard the sounds of mississippi blues.......Tyler heard Son House, Charley Patton, Robert Johnson, Fred McDowell, Joe Callicut, RL and all of the Burnsides, and countless other musician and singers, just as good who lived in a 75 mile radius from Robinsville Miss (just south of Tunica) down to Clarksdale, and going east to Como, and even past Oxford towards Holly Springs where Junior Kimbrough and all of the Burnsides lived and played. Tyler had heard this old masters in his head, but had played with 100's of others.......farm workers, tractor drivers, barbers, garbage men, moonshiners, janitors, alongside lawyers, doctors, and teachers. If you lived in the area, almost everyone played some type of instrument.....acoustic and electric guitars, banjos, pianos, harps, drums, flutes, and a variety of home made instruments - anything that produced a note or tone. Everyone could play and many of these same men, had taught tyler something......and shared something with Tyler he often thought of........Tyler was pretty sure that most of these 100's of men who had played with and taught tyler guitar riffs, also heard the music in their head just the same as Tyler.
After stopping at the Red and White grocery store outside of tunica for a $3.95 barbecue sandwich he had been eating since he was a child, tyler was nearing Clarksdale, and just north of the city, he turned east on Highway 7 and headed towards Batesville and Oxford. But Tyler wasn't going far, he was going just a few miles down Highway 7 where he turned left at the third graveled road and head 2 miles down that unmarked county road towards a place that everyone knew; "Smith's." "Smith's" was an old country store that had been converted to a juke joint on Thursday - Sunday nights so many years ago, that no one knew exactly how long it really was. But "Smith's" had about 12 tables with chairs - a long wooden bar, and behind the bar, 4 large regular kitchen refrigerators where the cold beer was kept. Smith's served Cold Beer, a set up with a small pail of Ice, and glasses only if you asked for it. Outside, usually several grills were going where Briskett, Ribs, and Chicken were served on paper plates with heaping sides of beans and cole slaw, and always from thursday to sunday - a band or individual was playing in the farthest north corner of the place, where extra sockets were located, where musicians could "plug in". But perhaps the most unique thing about Smith's was that on Monday - Wednesday when Smith's was closed, well the front porch that had 4 rocking chairs were usually filled with individuals who had stopped to chat, drink a cocoa cola, and of course, - bring a guitar to play a little bit. It was here in these afternoons, that Tyler bicycled over the pasture to listen to whomever had stopped to visit and to play - that Tyler had begun to learn guitar......and boy did that "white boy" learn to play.
Tyler pulled into the parking lot around 1:30 on Wednesday afternoon (his gig in Memphis wasn't until Saturday night), and even though the October sun was still strong enough to be in the 60's - Tyler wasn't surprised to find 5 cars and trucks in the parking lot. As he pulled to a stop, Tyler noticed a checkers game, and an middle age white man strumming an old acoustic, and as he got out of the car, he saw an old black man with his hat titled forward who appeared to be asleep with a batted old tweed guitar case across his laps with both hands on top of the case. "Lookit Here!"...."Its Skyyyywalker himself". "heard you might be by here," said Moses Tatum, one of the players of the checkers game and the owner of Smiths. "How are those magic, million dollar fingers man!" Tyler walked up to the porch, spread his fingers wide, and said "they feel pretty good to me"...."how are you man?" After shaking hands with the four men, (the old man in the corner hadn't appeared to move) Moses had gone inside to get Tyler a chair, everyone went about the business of catching up tyler about Clarksdale happenings, which really didn't take all that long. After a while, the catching up had turned to some songs, with Tyler singing while other took turns playing the old beat up acoustic until the sun had begun to give long shadows in the parking lot..."Man, i didn't realize it was so late, said Tyler" "Sorry if I've kept you guys from what you need to do.".......After a few more minutes, everyone left but Moses and the old man in the corner who still appeared to be asleep. "Hey, i got to go inside a few minutes before i go" said Moses, can you hang around a bit?" Tyler said "sure man, i got 2 days to spare before i go back to the big city." Moses laughed and said, "well, in that case, i will make it quick." Once Moses unlocked the door and went inside, Tyler looked on over to the old man, and looked closely at the tweed guitar case while the old man remained motionless except for his rhythmic breathing. Something was familiar about that case, although the case looked to be about 50 years old. It looked like a tweed suitcase with faded brown cloth reinforced with leather on the edges....it was torn in several places but there was some small design on the top Tyler couldn't make out, and he could have sworn he had seen that case somewhere. While Tyler was still thinking, the old man's left hand suddenly moved and pushed this hat back on his head and the old man, tilted his head back and said "howdy." tyler jumped a little but noticed the old black man had smooth skin , clear eyes, a solid white mustache and goatee, and had on a white shirt with checkered jacket. "I think most fellers come by here to play a little, so I'm told.......chu wanna play a little for an ole man?" asked the old man. "yeah that's what i've heard" said Tyler "but I don't have a guitar with me." "Well, look it, maybe you wanna use Bess here for a minute or two" said the old man. "well, yes sir if you don't mind, i could try to pick a little." As Tyler was talking, the old man, slowly opened his battered old case to pull out an equally old guitar that had been at one time, dark rich Walnut, but was now faded and chipped, and it looked similar to a les paul with one F hole in the top of the guitar; The fret board had no markings, and the headstock had no markings either. He handed it to tyler who pulled out a pick and began to play.....he started with a little bass run, and continued that bass line while adding some chords and single string runs......he kept that up and then all of a sudden he swiftly went to the 12 fret where his fingers flew over the fretboard and just as suddenly he went back to the second fret where he began, and finished with a short flurry.......A "skywalker" moment thought Tyler, as he finished. But while he was playing, he felt something in his fingers, and he noticed the distinct tone of the guitar......clear with a lotta sustain, but when he dug in with the pick, he "felt" something from the guitar....strange thought Tyler. "hey man, nice old guitar, what do you want for it?" tyler handed over the guitar to the old man, who said, "Bessie? It would cost you a million dollars." tyler laughed at the old mans joke, and said, "really, it is ugly - but man that is one sweet sounding old guitar. How much?" "Lookit, yu hard of hearing for a young man? I tole ya, a million dollars." Tyler sighed, and said, "okay, you don't want to sell her, i understand, - its a great sounding guitar." I guess i better go and find Moses before it gets dark" As tyler turned to go back inside of "Smith's" the old man asked Tyler "why do you use that piece of plastic to play, you didn't learn that way?" Tyler stopped and turned, and said" how did you know i didn't learn to play with a pick?" The old man, said "well, you ARE from around here aintchya? "Who from around here plays with a piece of plastic." "Its called a pick, and it allows me to play fast, which is what i want. It has taken a lot of practice to get fast with it." The old man, shook his head and laughed, "shee -it, lots of guys are fast, that's not what matters man. what matters is feeling what you're playing, and only way you do dat, is to play with your fingers. Once you learn to FEEL the strings and the sound, your fingers will know what to play. you know that i expect" said the ole man. Tyler was stunned by what the ole man said, here he was the number one artist in the free world, being told by an old black man, how he was supposed to play guitar. Instead of saying anything, Tyler turned and went in inside looking for Moses. "Hey Moses, you in here?? tyler walked around the familiar bar feeling at home, although it had been a couple of years since he had been here, and when he realized Moses wasn't there, he turned and left and went back outside, to ask the old man if he knew where Moses was. Except, when he came back outside, the old man with his battered guitar and case were gone. About that time, Moses came from around the corner and Tyler said "Hey Moses, you seen that old black guy who was siting over there in that corner with old guitar case?"....Moses walked toward Tyler and asked "what guy?"
Well my to books from Amazon arrived:
The Ultimate DIY Guide for the Makers and Players of the Handmade Music Revolution
The Ultimate Guide to Making Foot-Stompin'-Good Instruments
Stopped into my Local Cigar shop and talked with the owner. He has a crazy a mount of boxes. We struck up a deal, He would like 2 CBG's one for himself and one for a distrubitor friend. I told him no problem. CBG are a new animal to me... after picking Banjo and Pickn sticks (StrumStick if you want to go brandname) for about 4 years. Now I just need to get the basement wood shop finished. That will have to wait until MAY since the second week of May is.... My next full day off.... Love OT, hate the time away from Family...
Pro Bassist Kevin Dore joins the Leadfoot line up!
Kevin is a phenomenal musician with a wealth of experience. He has toured the world with the Geoff Everett band and supported the likes of The Hot House Flowers on a USA tour. He has also lived in both New York and Miami living as a talented session musician.
Kev will use his talent and experience to focus on developing the Leadfoot sound and experience into a Raw Live Grit & Gravel Foot Stomping Blues show.
"Kev absolutely blew me away at rehearsals yesterday with his thumping, driving bass lines. They really fill the tracks out, keeping their character. It was like supercharging the songs, fueling them on amphetamine. Raw dirty delta blues, there really is nothing like this and I'm sure your gonna love it!" T
Live Shows Coming Soon!
Hooked up with Kevin Dore - Pro Bassist yesterday for a jam and to work on a Leadfoot collaboration. Kevin is a master musician who's toured and supported in the UK and USA some fantastic bands / musicians. Kevin's talents and driving bass lines have really raised the Leadfoot bar, filling out the sound providing more grit and gravel. We are now working on a set for live performances. I'm really excited about collaboration and fuller sound - Gigs coming soon!
Lottery Blues by John Bolton
It was payday Friday and warm for March. Ray pulled on a pair of jeans, cheap tennies, his Howling Wolf tee-shirt and a faded orange cap. He strolled three blocks to County Hospital.
Used to be, Ray was the lead housekeeper at County. Now he was mostly retired. He still worked a day or so a week, mostly, doing floors. Ray was a wizard with floors.
He went down the stairs to the basement of the building and into the Housekeeping office just as Mary, his friend and supervisor was getting off the phone. Ray said, “Mary? Is it payday again? Shee-it! Don’t you just hate how they come around so often? What we sposed’ to do with all this money?”
Mary groaned and chuckled as she handed Ray his check. It was a payday ritual. She reached into a desk drawer and handed Ray another envelope – this one sky blue with his name written in red ink. Mary said, “This from Francine. To thank you for helping her husband fix that roof.”
Ray opened up the thank you card and frowned as he pulled out a Subway gift-card and a lottery ticket. The hand written part of the card read, “Thanks Ray. Remember me when you win the lottery.”
He said, “Aww, Francine didn’t need to do this... But it sure was nice.”
“Jackpot’s at a record high,” Mary said. “Peoples down to the gas station lined up to buy tickets.”
Ray had never bought a lottery ticket - didn’t even know how to pick the numbers…. But he started thinking what he could do for his family if he had him a bunch of money. His two grown sons and their families could sure use some help.
He walked down to Jimmy’s BBQ & Blues, smelling that good smoke for the last two blocks. Every Thursday and Friday night, Ray was the blues at Jimmy’s BBQ and Blues.
Jimmy was around back working the smoker. He cut a slice of beef brisket the size of a Zippo lighter. With no other greeting, he handed it to Ray on a plastic fork. Ray accepted the tribute with a bow of his graying head. He bit off a large and tender mouth full. He chewed a little then threw up his hands and spun a circle doing his happy dance.
“Good?” Jimmy asked.
Ray popped the rest into his mouth. He chewed and seemed to ponder the question. He did the happy dance again and answered, “Not bad, Boss.”
Jimmy dug into his fat, tattered wallet, pulled out two twenties and handed them to Ray. He cackled a dry laugh, saying, “Man you can sing and play a little, but you can’t dance for shit.”
Ray got twenty dollars, two domestic beers and a meal every time he played at Jimmy’s. The ‘doh-mestic’ beer thing was an inside joke. Jimmy served three kinds of beer: Bud, Bud Light and PBR. Ray was PBR man.
Truth was that Ray would have played for a pulled pork or brisket plate with beans and Jimmy’s coleslaw. But the money did come in handy and Jimmy paid him every Friday. He paid him off the books and that was better yet.
Deanna, the dishwasher, came out back and tossed dirty dish water out of a pink plastic tub. She asked, “Ray, honey? You want in our lotto pool? We gonna win and I ain’t never gonna wash another dish!”
Ray fished his ticket out of his pocket and told her, “No babes. I gots the winner right here.”
He went home and laid the ticket on the kitchen table for Loretta to see when she got home from work. He loaded the lawn mower into the trunk of their five year old Chevy and felt a bit light headed. Whoa! He about lost his balance. He was 65 years old and took pride in still being strong and able to work. The same thing had happened Tuesday when he hadn’t done nothin’ but get up off the couch.
He shook it off and drove off to his momma’s house. Ray was fairly content with his life and what he had. His and Loretta’s little house was paid for and in pretty good shape. Central air conditioning would be nice and Loretta would sure like new living room furniture and a new mattress. But they had everything they needed, and most of what they wanted.
Just the same, Ray was thinking about what he’d do if he won some money. He’d heard about folks winning and really putting their lives in a mess. He would not let that happen if he won. He’d see their grown sons’ families in nice but not fancy houses. And a new car for each. And he’d see that Francine got a share. He’d give some money to good charities and he would put the rest away. He’d live simple and comfortable. And never worry about money again.
Ray put on his left turn signal for his momma’s street. He turned and realized he had the wrong street. He was one block off. Confused for a minute, he assured himself that they’d done some construction there and things looked different.
But it worried him. He said a prayer for himself and his family. He asked for salvation and mercy and telling God, that he sure would appreciate more good health. As nearly always, he ended the prayer with, ‘Thy will be done.’
Then he added a PS, saying out loud, “And Lord, it would sure be fine to win the lottery. I’d do some good things.”
He got to his mother’s and gave her a hug. His momma had lost two kids. Both younger than Ray. One of the things Ray needed to do in life was outlive his momma. They visited for a bit and then Ray set to mowing and trimming.
He felt vaguely not right. Just a little headache and light headed. By the time he was done he was tired but feeling okay. His momma fed him pancakes and eggs for lunch. The food and rest set him right again.
That afternoon when Loretta got home they discussed their day. Ray made no mention of not feeling right or what he wished for regarding the lottery. In fact, the lottery ticket went unmentioned. There was a small window of time together before Ray had to leave to play at Jimmy’s.
Jimmy always introduced his performers - sometimes doing so a couple of times a night as the customers came and went. He always introduced Ray as ‘the best bluesman nobody outside this county ever heard of.’
Taped to the back of Ray’s guitar were two lists of twelve songs each. The guitar was a good playing old Kay. The songs were mostly blues and each set had one or more bluesy Gospels. He would play one set take a break and then play the other. And keep it up until time to go home.
It was a good night. People were in good spirits with the fine weather and it being payday for lots of them. Although it was a black neighborhood with some Hispanics coming in, the BBQ crowd was about 60% white, 40% black and 0% Hispanic. He wondered why that was. The Mexicans sure went to the Chinese place down the street.
Ray opened his second set with the Guy Davis song, Payday.
“Well I done all I can do. And I can’t get along with you.
Gonna take you to your momma’s payday.”
He took requests. He was known for doing Hank William’s Mind Your Own Business. He did that song and the BBQ staff and a good number of the diner s joined in on the echoes of ‘Mind Your Own Business.’ It never got old for Ray.
He was tuckered out and quit playing when the dining crowd thinned down. He bent over to unplug his amp and felt light headed. He went down on one knee.
The next thing Ray knew - or more like - halfway knew - he was in the ICU at County Hospital with Loretta at his bedside. The world seemed foggy and dreamlike to Ray. He was aware of things and somehow knew where he was.. But he did not have words. Something like words formed in his mind, but he didn’t recognize them. He felt helpless and befuddled.
Loretta saw his eyes were open. She took his left hand, the hand without an IV. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and said, “Raymond, it’s good to see you awake. You hurtin’ anywhere?”
Ray heard her words but could make no sense of them. He did not understand when she told him he’d had a stroke. He did not understand when she told him that he’d won a portion of the lottery. He saw tears on Loretta’s face. Ray understood tears.
Ray had always hoped he would never have to go to a nursing home. On the day he was to be taken to the River View Nursing Home, Ray had another stroke.
Late that morning, surrounded by family and friends, he died. Per Loretta’s instructions on a hospital form, there were no attempts to resuscitate Ray. No false heroics. He was allowed to die in peace and with some dignity.
* * *
Loretta laid fresh cut peonies and irises on Ray’s grave by the red granite headstone. There were guitars cut into the stone. Loretta thought Ray would have liked those guitars.
It had been three years since Ray died and Loretta had been
there many times. If she was alone, she spoke to Ray as though he were there with her. She wiped tears from both cheeks with a lavender flowered hanky and told him, “Raymond, I sure still miss you. I sure hope you’re not watching us down here. That money causes us more trouble than it was ever worth.”
