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Thunderbird Club

Taking my ‘77 T-Bird to the shop today to see if the neck can be straightened out. I snapped the end of the truss rod off a few years ago which I eventually got repaired but the neck had taken a set by then. Last November I unstrung it and clamped it in a back bow. I just unclamped it last night but I didn’t restring it. I want to get a pro to look at it and give a prognosis. Wish me luck. I’m the original owner of this bass.
 
Taking my ‘77 T-Bird to the shop today to see if the neck can be straightened out. I snapped the end of the truss rod off a few years ago which I eventually got repaired but the neck had taken a set by then. Last November I unstrung it and clamped it in a back bow. I just unclamped it last night but I didn’t restring it. I want to get a pro to look at it and give a prognosis. Wish me luck. I’m the original owner of this bass.
Good luck!
 
I used to get woken up to that blasting from a neighbors car stereo every Saturday morning. Made me hate that music really fast! This was while I was still in high school so around 84’. I would open my window facing their music and blast Metallica or whatever metal or punk I was listening to at the time.
yeah. Saturday and Sunday mornings....tell me about it....sucks....to boot, it's always the same 6 songs..:banghead:
 
G&L L-2000 (active system) - I will go out on a limb and say that anyone who likes humbuckers and passive basses would like an L-2000 system. (9v pre/MFD pu's) A very useable pre with a pure passive setting. I use it in this Fender/G&L hybrid and my Factorbird fretless.

View attachment 3388323
whoa!...that's one sharp looking bass....love that maple....
 
I thought you might know these guys (by reputation, having seen them, or knowing members individually). The singer nails the songs and these are really good covers. What covers should be (IMHO); not note for note, but a new take on the original.

1 & 2, yes. They seem like cool, interesting people; I'd love to know them personally, but that hasn't happened yet.
 
whoa!...that's one sharp looking bass....love that maple....

It started life as an '06 '51 P RI. One of the few basses I've ever bought brand new. (in Dec '06) It was that awful mustard colour attempting to look like aged blond.
 
well, you fixed that....it now looks like Dusty Hill's wet dream..:thumbsup:.

I love it but it is heavy (10lbs) It went through two 'looks' but that was before I started focusing on lightweight basses. With the big pg I could lose a little weight chambering it but at this point I probably will just leave it as is. Marty Bell did the beautiful piano-black/stained back/sides finish.
 
I used to get woken up to that blasting from a neighbors car stereo every Saturday morning. Made me hate that music really fast! This was while I was still in high school so around 84’. I would open my window facing their music and blast Metallica or whatever metal or punk I was listening to at the time.

Not sure if I've told this story. Several of us used to rent a shotgun house together. The neighbors' houses were six feet away on either side- old homes, no A/C and no insulation to speak of. A drummer next door (who had no other job) set up his practice room on the side of his house closest to our bedrooms (all rooms involved were upstairs), and would practice every day at the same time in the middle of the day. Both houses of necessity had windows open in the Georgia summer. One of my housemates (Dave) worked nights, and had asked the drummer several times to practice earlier or later, or move to the other side of his house since the next house over was empty during the day. We offered to help move his kit. The drummer refused because he simply didn't want to. (It was loud enough that it made conversation difficult even downstairs in our living room.) Everyone else in both houses would try to accommodate each other on issues to make life more bearable.
OK, bro, you don't *have* to work with us.
One day as the time approached, Dave and I set my 130W guitar amp up in the window closest to the drum room window. I ran my guitar (with hot pickups in series for maximum signal) through my Big Muff Pi with every control cranked on axe, fuzz, and amp. I basically practiced scales and power chords as hard as I could for a half hour, then just beat the snot out of the same chord for a half hour. Dave hung out in the kitchen, drinking iced tea and reading.
When I finally stopped, I took off the unplugged headphones (I like my hearing), and after a few seconds realized the pounding I heard was the front door, not a bass drum. The drummer was at the door, livid. I opened the door, he started to yell, and I screamed "SHUT UP!" I never acted like that so he did. "Look," I said, "you practice when you want, as loud as you want, so I will, too. If you want to move to a room on the other side of the house, or just move your time as Dave asked, I'll happily move mine, too. Thanks." He left, grumbling, but moved his drums to the spare room on the other side of his house.
 
Not sure if I've told this story. Several of us used to rent a shotgun house together. The neighbors' houses were six feet away on either side- old homes, no A/C and no insulation to speak of. A drummer next door (who had no other job) set up his practice room on the side of his house closest to our bedrooms (all rooms involved were upstairs), and would practice every day at the same time in the middle of the day. Both houses of necessity had windows open in the Georgia summer. One of my housemates (Dave) worked nights, and had asked the drummer several times to practice earlier or later, or move to the other side of his house since the next house over was empty during the day. We offered to help move his kit. The drummer refused because he simply didn't want to. (It was loud enough that it made conversation difficult even downstairs in our living room.) Everyone else in both houses would try to accommodate each other on issues to make life more bearable.
OK, bro, you don't *have* to work with us.
One day as the time approached, Dave and I set my 130W guitar amp up in the window closest to the drum room window. I ran my guitar (with hot pickups in series for maximum signal) through my Big Muff Pi with every control cranked on axe, fuzz, and amp. I basically practiced scales and power chords as hard as I could for a half hour, then just beat the snot out of the same chord for a half hour. Dave hung out in the kitchen, drinking iced tea and reading.
When I finally stopped, I took off the unplugged headphones (I like my hearing), and after a few seconds realized the pounding I heard was the front door, not a bass drum. The drummer was at the door, livid. I opened the door, he started to yell, and I screamed "SHUT UP!" I never acted like that so he did. "Look," I said, "you practice when you want, as loud as you want, so I will, too. If you want to move to a room on the other side of the house, or just move your time as Dave asked, I'll happily move mine, too. Thanks." He left, grumbling, but moved his drums to the spare room on the other side of his house.

It's amazing how people can be that "tone deaf" to their own behavior until they are victimized by that behavior themselves. Well played, sir, well played.
 

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