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Here

Lefty here too. I do have more guitars/amps than talent  but I do enjoy them none the less.

Registered at the FDP around '97-'98 (can't remember for sure anymore)  but then life got in the way and didn't post much afterwards but I did lurk till the end.

Happy to be here now.

I am severely left handed. But, at the age of 7 I told Dad I wanted to play the guitar. He took me to the local school system and we met with the orchestral leader. He asked me why I was interested in the Orchestra, well I wasn’t really, I said I want to play the guitar. He said that was good and that he would start me on the violin. What do I know I’m 8, I figured, well if Elvis had to learn violin to play guitar so be it. I was raised to respect elders, that they were alway right. So, yeah I’m in, whatever it takes. He pulls out a violin and shows me how to tighten the bow and un tighten it, and to always do this. He puts the violin in my left hand and the bow in my right. I mentioned that I was left handed. He said great, it’ll be easier for you since your strong hand will be doing the delicate work of playing the instrument, he also mentioned that it was going to be difficult anyways and if I learn properly I will have more access to instruments as I move forward. OK, he was the teacher, I’m a kid who knows nothing except guitar payers are cool.

I got to second chair before he figured out I couldn’t read music, he was extremely upset with me as he had tried to ridicule an older player by showing what the youngest kid in the orchestra could do and placed a piece I’d never seen before on my music stand. I could figure it out and I started to, well now he was pissed at me. He lost it, actually threw my violin against the wall and it shattered. I’m a freakin kid, my response didn’t do me any favors, I started laughing. It didn’t calm his rage, not even a little bit. He yelled at me “What’s so funny” in an evil kind of way. I’m really not as cool as it seems, but I recovered and said I guess Dad won’t need to sent this months violin rent to you.

He threw me out of the orchestra. The next school year, actually the first day I see him approaching as I’m heading to my first class, he comes right up to me and apologized, he told me he wanted me back in the orchestra. He put me on the cello. A couple of weeks later I told him I wasn’t interested in the cello, though I never explained why to him.

The cello is an awkward instrument at an awkward age. I had to take the thing home on the bus every day. Being in the orchestra in 1963 was not considered cool by the jocks, and most others as well. They would reach down a pull my music out of the pouch, toss it all over the bus, I’d get my butt kicked a couple times a week, which wasn’t a problem, from the age of 3 to 7 we lived in Brooklyn NYC. I was used to getting my butt kicked and could take, but see these girls would laugh about it and really with out understanding it, it bothered me. So I gave the Orchestra director notice, no cello.

He said, he had a bass position open, If that would work, I asked if I have to take it home with me. He said no, but I would on Holliday’s and summer break. Cool, I wouldn’t have practice every day. I still had to figure out the music score though. Well the earth changed that first day. I leaned that bass up against me and drew the bow across the gut stings and just freaking wow, I actually thought this is how God created the universe. The power, the way is came off the walls and saturated the sound. I new in that moment that it was my instrument. I’d waisted to much time on toy instruments, I know, I know, I was a child. The bad news was Dad got orders for his nest assignment to Weisbaden Germany. It was over but it took a strange path.

Man, I was actually suffering. I needed bass, seriously it was bad. Like part of my identity. Dad took me to the band leader at H.H.Arnold Senior High, I was still in Jr. High. The band leader didn’t have a bass but I could be a tuba player. Horror infused my soul, and to add insult to injury freaking marching in formation. No, It just got worse, I decided I’d have to build one.

It took a month or so, I used scrap wood from the construction of new family homes near the house dad rented, until base housing was available. I purchased tuning machines, strings and a bridge. The day came to string it up and play bass again. I did not consider the power of string tension and the thing imploded. Not a bass “o/. I removed all the purchased hardware. An hour or so later I’m back in the construction area gathering materials. Dad pulled up to the house, just getting home from the office and asked me what’s up. He could see the remains of the first attempt in the garbage can. I told him of my failure, he told me that Santa would bring me one for Christmas.

I got the brand new shinny bass of my dreams. well it was a choice between the Framus Atlantik or the Hofner violin bass. I didn’t like the feel of the Hofner. By this time were in base housing, by New Years I was starting a band with the base commanders son.

Lefty here checking in!

lefty from down under showed up

Well thanks LTB, I’m living an interesting life, and how it made my poor mother suffer. i’m also sorry how lame I am at grammar and spelling. As strong as some of my skills and thinking are, something weird goes on between my eyes and brain. Words look right to me then latter I see they aren’t. Spell check helps a lot but I still miss stuff.

Got to throw another log in the stove, it was 48 degrees in the house this morning.

Ironically, I'm a lefty at almost everything - INCLUDING guitar - but I bat and golf right-handed...who knows why.