A guitar shaped guitar with guitars... how meta...
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WBO 23 - Certandan Deep Strings
- Thread starter Flamingo21
- Start date
I have Covid. It drains my energy, so I sleep a lot, and when I'm awake I need to carefully manage how much I do, and what. For instance, I was in the workshop, looking at the Certandan Deep Strings, considering the things that need doing. I was about to power up the band saw. Then I remembered I needed to arrange for my groceries to be delivered, because I can't go shopping now. And I couldn't put this off or the stuff wouldn't arrive even tomorrow. So I took care of that, which required a lot of attention because I've not done it before ..... and then I was drained. The rest of the day was spent just sitting behind the computer.
If I can get the hang of this, maybe I can get on with the build a bit. I'm trying to remain philosophical about it. Like "it is what it is", "there's a higher purpose to it", and so on.
I did do something productive while sitting behind that computer: I ordered stuff for the next bass. The order includes a slotted fretboard, frets, and a fret hammer, so it forces me to tackle what I've been dreading most: building a bass neck!
Of course, this also ensures that the next build will be more conventional than this one. I think that much of the new build will follow established practices. Well, I need to learn those too, don't I?
I'll keep you posted.
If I can get the hang of this, maybe I can get on with the build a bit. I'm trying to remain philosophical about it. Like "it is what it is", "there's a higher purpose to it", and so on.
I did do something productive while sitting behind that computer: I ordered stuff for the next bass. The order includes a slotted fretboard, frets, and a fret hammer, so it forces me to tackle what I've been dreading most: building a bass neck!
Of course, this also ensures that the next build will be more conventional than this one. I think that much of the new build will follow established practices. Well, I need to learn those too, don't I?
I'll keep you posted.
Get well!
Don’t push it.
I got sick earlier this fall, pushed way too hard when I thought I was better and got sick again, …
Take it easy and work back into life slowly.
I think there may be a few of us finishing this BO in April or June.
Now if I was still in my 20s, or 30s, or 40s I might say push through it am all will be cool.
But I’m not. And I learned some painful lessons doing that. And doing it again. And again. Not all nerds are smart. Some of us need to learn the hard way.
Don’t push it.
I got sick earlier this fall, pushed way too hard when I thought I was better and got sick again, …
Take it easy and work back into life slowly.
I think there may be a few of us finishing this BO in April or June.
Now if I was still in my 20s, or 30s, or 40s I might say push through it am all will be cool.
But I’m not. And I learned some painful lessons doing that. And doing it again. And again. Not all nerds are smart. Some of us need to learn the hard way.
That sucks, COVID gave me crazy fatigue. Take care of yourself, the build will be there (and it makes sound now so you can still submit it). Better to wait until you're in the right shape, than to push and make a mistake or prolong your infection.
That's a drag. I'm lucky enough not to have had covid, but I try to stay away from humans just generally as I don't get on well with many of them.
Do take it easy and don't push yourself to hard, that never works out well.
Do take it easy and don't push yourself to hard, that never works out well.
Thanks, all, for the kind words. I'll try to be sensible. After all, I'm not in my 20s anymore either. Or my 30s. Or my 40s.
I'm 55.
I'm 55.
I'm 63, recovery isn't as fast as it used to be
Yes. Rest as needed and work when you’re able. Finish the build when you can. We’ll still be here to read about it.
Incredibly, today I woke up to the first snow. This is a view from my workshop window.
Just like @Gary_M has been quoting from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I've been wanting to do the same with Tigana.
The trouble with quoting from Tigana is the way it's written. A tightly-constructed story, in which everything is related to everything else. It moves in long flowing paragraphs, in which every other sentence ties in with something from another paragraph or another chapter. A short quote will usually not make any sense by itself, and a long one cannot be understood without a lot of explanation.
I think I've now found a suitable fragment that doesn't require much explanation. This will at least give you an impression of the style.
Devin, 19 years of age but young-looking, has just met Rovigo, captain of the ship Sea Maid, in a bar. We are in the province of Astibar, which has strict rules on underage drinking.
You will notice how much the nine provinces are ingrained in everyday speech: three of them get a mention in this short fragment. Certando, Chiara, and Asoli. (Quileia is also mentioned, but that's another country.)
-------------------------------------------
The tavern-keeper, who had quite efficiently succeeded in ignoring Rovigo's intermittent signalling for another bottle of wine now strode to their end of the bar, black anger visible on his features even in the darkened room.
'You!' he hissed. 'Your name Devin?'
Taken aback, Devin nodded reflexive agreement. The tavern-keeper's expression grew even more malevolent.
'Get out of here!' he rasped. 'Your Triad-cursed sister's outside. Says your father's ordered you home and - Morian blast you both! - that he's minded to turn me in for serving an underage. You gutter-spawned maggot, I'll teach you to put me at risk of being shut down on the eve of the Festival!'
Before Devin could move, a full pitcher of soured black wine was flung into his face, stinging like fire. He scrambled back, wiping at his streaming eyes, swearing furiously.
When he could see again it was to observe an extraordinary sight.
Rovigo - not a big man - had moved along the bar and had grabbed the 'keeper by the collar of his greasy tunic. Without apparent effort he had the man pulled halfway over the bar top, feet kicking ineffectually in mid-air. The collar was twisted to a degree sufficient to cause the helpless tavern-owner's face to begin turning a mottled shade of crimson.
'Goro, I do not like my friends being abused,' Rovigo said calmly. 'The lad has no father here and I doubt he has a sister.' He cocked an eyebrow at Devin who shook his dripping head vehemently.
'As I say,' Rovigo continued, not even breathing hard, 'he has no sister here. He is also patently not underage - as should be obvious to any tavern-owner not blinded by swilling buckets of his own slop after hours. Now, Goro, will you placate me a little by apologizing to Devin d'Asoli, my new friend, and offering him two bottles of corked vintage Certando red, by way of showing your sincere contrition? In return I may be persuaded to let you have a cask of the Quileian buinath that's sitting on the Sea Maid even now. At an appropriate price of course, given what you can extort for that stuff af Festival-time.'
Goro's face had accomplished a truly dangerous hue. Just as Devin felt obliged to caution Rovigo, the tavern-owner gave a jerky, convulsive nod and the merchant untwisted the collar a little. Goro dragged foetid tavern air into his lungs as if it were scented with Chiaran mountain tainflowers and spluttered a three word apology to Devin.
'And the wine?' Rovigo reminded him kindly.
He lowered the other man - still without any evident exertion - enough for Goro to fumble below the bar and resurface with two bottles of what certainly appeared to be Certandan red.
Rovigo let slip another notch of the tightened collar.
'Vintage?' he inquired patiently.
Goro twitched his head up and down.
'Well then,' Rovigo declared, releasing Goro completely, 'it appears we are quits. I suppose,' he said, turning to Devin, 'that you should go see who is pretending to be your sister outside.'
I know who it is,' Devin said grimly. 'Thank you, by the way. I'm used to fighting my own battles, but it's pleasant to have an ally now and again.'
(Guy Gavriel Kay, Tigana. This edition published by Earthlight, 2002)
The trouble with quoting from Tigana is the way it's written. A tightly-constructed story, in which everything is related to everything else. It moves in long flowing paragraphs, in which every other sentence ties in with something from another paragraph or another chapter. A short quote will usually not make any sense by itself, and a long one cannot be understood without a lot of explanation.
I think I've now found a suitable fragment that doesn't require much explanation. This will at least give you an impression of the style.
Devin, 19 years of age but young-looking, has just met Rovigo, captain of the ship Sea Maid, in a bar. We are in the province of Astibar, which has strict rules on underage drinking.
You will notice how much the nine provinces are ingrained in everyday speech: three of them get a mention in this short fragment. Certando, Chiara, and Asoli. (Quileia is also mentioned, but that's another country.)
-------------------------------------------
The tavern-keeper, who had quite efficiently succeeded in ignoring Rovigo's intermittent signalling for another bottle of wine now strode to their end of the bar, black anger visible on his features even in the darkened room.
'You!' he hissed. 'Your name Devin?'
Taken aback, Devin nodded reflexive agreement. The tavern-keeper's expression grew even more malevolent.
'Get out of here!' he rasped. 'Your Triad-cursed sister's outside. Says your father's ordered you home and - Morian blast you both! - that he's minded to turn me in for serving an underage. You gutter-spawned maggot, I'll teach you to put me at risk of being shut down on the eve of the Festival!'
Before Devin could move, a full pitcher of soured black wine was flung into his face, stinging like fire. He scrambled back, wiping at his streaming eyes, swearing furiously.
When he could see again it was to observe an extraordinary sight.
Rovigo - not a big man - had moved along the bar and had grabbed the 'keeper by the collar of his greasy tunic. Without apparent effort he had the man pulled halfway over the bar top, feet kicking ineffectually in mid-air. The collar was twisted to a degree sufficient to cause the helpless tavern-owner's face to begin turning a mottled shade of crimson.
'Goro, I do not like my friends being abused,' Rovigo said calmly. 'The lad has no father here and I doubt he has a sister.' He cocked an eyebrow at Devin who shook his dripping head vehemently.
'As I say,' Rovigo continued, not even breathing hard, 'he has no sister here. He is also patently not underage - as should be obvious to any tavern-owner not blinded by swilling buckets of his own slop after hours. Now, Goro, will you placate me a little by apologizing to Devin d'Asoli, my new friend, and offering him two bottles of corked vintage Certando red, by way of showing your sincere contrition? In return I may be persuaded to let you have a cask of the Quileian buinath that's sitting on the Sea Maid even now. At an appropriate price of course, given what you can extort for that stuff af Festival-time.'
Goro's face had accomplished a truly dangerous hue. Just as Devin felt obliged to caution Rovigo, the tavern-owner gave a jerky, convulsive nod and the merchant untwisted the collar a little. Goro dragged foetid tavern air into his lungs as if it were scented with Chiaran mountain tainflowers and spluttered a three word apology to Devin.
'And the wine?' Rovigo reminded him kindly.
He lowered the other man - still without any evident exertion - enough for Goro to fumble below the bar and resurface with two bottles of what certainly appeared to be Certandan red.
Rovigo let slip another notch of the tightened collar.
'Vintage?' he inquired patiently.
Goro twitched his head up and down.
'Well then,' Rovigo declared, releasing Goro completely, 'it appears we are quits. I suppose,' he said, turning to Devin, 'that you should go see who is pretending to be your sister outside.'
I know who it is,' Devin said grimly. 'Thank you, by the way. I'm used to fighting my own battles, but it's pleasant to have an ally now and again.'
(Guy Gavriel Kay, Tigana. This edition published by Earthlight, 2002)
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In spite of Covid, I did some real work. I made a new bridge. The old one was too low, 7cm. This one is 10cm. Then I had to sit down again.
I made the new one from plywood since I had nothing more appropriate. The perks of being in isolation.
Both bridges share a feature that I may not have shown you on the old one. I'll show it now on the new one. The invisible side (the side that faces the floor) is hollowed out, so the piezo fits in. I will probably keep the piezo in place with some tape. (A piezo is of course too modern to be visible on this bass, hence the stealthy construction.) From the bridge, the piezo cord gets into the body through a slit that's hidden by the leather top.
I made the new one from plywood since I had nothing more appropriate. The perks of being in isolation.
Both bridges share a feature that I may not have shown you on the old one. I'll show it now on the new one. The invisible side (the side that faces the floor) is hollowed out, so the piezo fits in. I will probably keep the piezo in place with some tape. (A piezo is of course too modern to be visible on this bass, hence the stealthy construction.) From the bridge, the piezo cord gets into the body through a slit that's hidden by the leather top.
Nice! A veneer over the piezo would hide it even further. 
And that's important because what? You will visit me next year, have me play this thing, and admire it while you lie on the floor?A veneer over the piezo would hide it even further.
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I'm thinking the sound coming out of the amplifier is a dead giveaway in any case.
It's not an amplifier it's a Thaumaturgic Resonator, or something.
I think a speaker cab disguised as a wine barrel would be a glorious addition to this build. You already practiced coopering with the body, so ...
PS: get well soon!
How about joining me. Should be doable. You're in New England, so you're reasonably close.
