Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Wednesday, November 09, 2005

For your edification...
This is the Fender Jazzmaster. It was introduced in 1958, and it is the only guitar that you'll ever want. It has a 25.5" scale length, two warm single-coil pickups, a separate rhythm circuit, and a floating tremolo:

Should for some obscure reason you want not a Jazzmaster, I suggest the Fender Jaguar, introduced in 1962. It has a shorter 24" scale length and brighter pickups:

Amongst many other colors, it is also available in the bizarre antigua finish (yum!):

Should you need a different sound, the Jaguar is also available with humbuckers and a fixed bridge:

A budget version is the hybrid Squier Jagmaster, also with a 24" scale length:

Should you need a lower range, try the Fender Jaguar Baritone Special, available with humbuckers, a fixed bridge, and a 27" scale length. It is typically tuned B-B, lower than a standard guitar:

But even more fun is the Fender Jaguar Baritone Custom, available with single-coils, a fixed bridge, rhythm circuit, and a longer 28.5" scale length. Tuned E-E, an octave lower than a standard guitar:

...which is more or less a modified version of the classic Fender Bass VI, with a 30" scale length, three single coils, and a floating tremolo:

However, should that not be bassy enough for you, there is always the Fender Jaguar Bass, equipped with Jazz Bass pickups and a 34" scale length:

For more info about the original Jazzmaster and Jaguar, their history, FAQs, etc., visit http://www.webrocker.de/jaguar/v2/index.php, which includes a nice helpful flash thingy that explains the Jaguar's switching configurations.
Should you wish to help me in my musical endeavors, I will accept donations of any or all of these. Thank you, and good day.
Labels: geek stuff, music

Murky Buckup!
While, um, standing in the men's room today, I could hear the garbled words of women from the ladies' room next door from through the ceiling tiles. This reminded me of a similar situation many years ago in a men's part of a changing/shower/restroom at the Ocoee River rafting place, where we could clearly hear the girls talking about whatever from over the wall. I mentioned to Scott, "Do you think the girls realized that we could hear them talking?", to which he laughed. I mentioned this to Andrea later, to which she replied, "Really? We didn't hear any of you guys..." So I explained to her that guys usually don't talk in the men's room, especially if there are strangers present.
This reminded me a television commercial for a short-lived sitcom back in the late 90s. I forget its name, and I never actually saw the show, but it starred some blonde comedienne (not Tea Leone). Anyway, this lady and her friends got fed up with waiting outside the ladies' room, so they went to the men's room. So, they're awkwardly standing in the men's room with the guys, and the lady tries to make conversation:
Lady: "Nice day, isn't it?"
Man: "WE DON'T TALK IN THE MEN'S ROOM!!!"
Another commercial featured said comedienne dressed as a french maid who delivered the entire promo to the camera in french, with subtitles below. But the genius part came at the end, when right after the ABC-announcer-man stated the time slot of the show, he phonetically pronounced merci beaucoup "murky buckup" with no furthur explanation. Brilliant.
Labels: film/tv/books/arts, life
Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Weird Dream.

So, I dreamt that I was looking in the mirror and I popped a zit. But instead of white stuff, a white centipede came out - I had to grab it with my hand and yank it out. It ended up being about 6 inches long. Then I noticed a smaller one crawling around underneath my skin and I was trying to catch him so I could pop him out too. It was gross. I think my head was covered with ferns, too.
Somebody asked me what I ate earlier that night. Bratwurst and sauerkraut (German food, in honor of Reformation Day). I think that explains a lot. Actually, it reminds me of those episodes of the Cosby Show when Cliff would eat a sausage sandwich, and then have bizarre, bizarre dreams where he gave birth to a ten-foot-long hoagie and a 2-liter bottle of grape soda, or the one where he got kidnapped by Muppets. Oh, and there was also that episode of The X-Files where Doggett rips that foot-long slug creature out of Scully's back, after cutting a hole in the back of her neck with his pocket knife. Ugh.
Labels: dreams

