The Monday from heck... maybe not!!
Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2005 3:36 am
Hope your Monday was better than mine... Or as GOOD!!
Here's what happened:
Went to Nashville to pitch songs to a couple of publishers - both were out with the flu and had to reschedule!
Had to wait an hour at BMI to get my roalty check straightened out.
Leaving there, my transmission starts acting up and that really irritates me.
Ok - So here's the fun part that includes Rickenbacker.
I go to lunch at this little pizza place on West End that I like - good food and usually have a jazz ensemble playing there. (I'm not a big jazz guy, but have heard some really good players there) Well - today is Monday and things have changed a bit.
It's now "Karaoke Monday" -
Yeeeeee-Haaaawwwwwwww!!!
The only place left to sit is at a little table in the back next to another table with an Elvis impersonator.
I'll let that sink in...
Yeah, high collar and all. He's talking the talk too - "Hey there li'l darl'n, can I have a refill on ma' coke".
There's a gal singing "Croakie" - doing Patsy Cline (Crazy). I want to tell her not to quit
her day job, but there's some Chris Pappas type guy (big and strong) sit'n there a "swoon'n" over her, so common sense tells me to keep my mouth shut.
Anyway, I look up and Paul Simon comes through the door - no not that one!!
It's a long story but he started a production company and is doing pretty well - got an office over on State St. Any way, he sits down and has some pizza with me 'cause we have't seen each other in a couple of months. After wolf'n down some pizza, I tell him I've gotta go - wanna swing by Gruhn's and have a look before I go down to Brentwood. Besides, I can't take the "croakie" anymore.
Paul says he's got some time to kill so we take off. On the way there he starts talking about these new Gibs** Les Pau** at the Gib** store on 12th Ave. Says he's gonna have a custom one made and wants me to take a look at 'em. I tell him I don't have much time and really want to go to Gruhn's. Finally, I give in.
We go in the place and there's these salesmen, all flit'n around in their Gib** shirts.
I really feel out of place. Anyway, Paul starts talking to one of them and we all go over to a display area. The sales guy puts on these white gloves and picks up a guitar from a stand - all smiles. Pauls starts ponting at the thing, telling me all about the one he
wants built at the Custom Shop - gold this, chrome that, 15 switches, etc.
That's when I get the idea!!!
I stand there, polite and all, listening to him with an eye on the sales guy.
When Paul's done I say, "Yeah, that sounds pretty cool man". Then I turn to the sales guy and say,
"Hey man.... uhhhh... where do ya'keep all your Rickenbackers?"
You should have seen his face!!! The guy actually winced! He says, " Uhhhhh... I'm sorry sir, we don't carry anything but Gib** instruments in this store". I look at him and say,
"Geeeez, that's too bad - C'mon Paul, lets go". Paul's standing there with his mouth open, still pointing at the guitar as I'm going out the door, about to crack up. Paul gets outside and swears he'll never go anywhere with me again!
(We have since, made up)
Guys, I ain't laughed that hard since I saw Junior Banks set his britches on fire at the
FFA weenie roast!
Here's what happened:
Went to Nashville to pitch songs to a couple of publishers - both were out with the flu and had to reschedule!
Had to wait an hour at BMI to get my roalty check straightened out.
Leaving there, my transmission starts acting up and that really irritates me.
Ok - So here's the fun part that includes Rickenbacker.
I go to lunch at this little pizza place on West End that I like - good food and usually have a jazz ensemble playing there. (I'm not a big jazz guy, but have heard some really good players there) Well - today is Monday and things have changed a bit.
It's now "Karaoke Monday" -
Yeeeeee-Haaaawwwwwwww!!!
The only place left to sit is at a little table in the back next to another table with an Elvis impersonator.
I'll let that sink in...
Yeah, high collar and all. He's talking the talk too - "Hey there li'l darl'n, can I have a refill on ma' coke".
There's a gal singing "Croakie" - doing Patsy Cline (Crazy). I want to tell her not to quit
her day job, but there's some Chris Pappas type guy (big and strong) sit'n there a "swoon'n" over her, so common sense tells me to keep my mouth shut.
Anyway, I look up and Paul Simon comes through the door - no not that one!!
It's a long story but he started a production company and is doing pretty well - got an office over on State St. Any way, he sits down and has some pizza with me 'cause we have't seen each other in a couple of months. After wolf'n down some pizza, I tell him I've gotta go - wanna swing by Gruhn's and have a look before I go down to Brentwood. Besides, I can't take the "croakie" anymore.
Paul says he's got some time to kill so we take off. On the way there he starts talking about these new Gibs** Les Pau** at the Gib** store on 12th Ave. Says he's gonna have a custom one made and wants me to take a look at 'em. I tell him I don't have much time and really want to go to Gruhn's. Finally, I give in.
We go in the place and there's these salesmen, all flit'n around in their Gib** shirts.
I really feel out of place. Anyway, Paul starts talking to one of them and we all go over to a display area. The sales guy puts on these white gloves and picks up a guitar from a stand - all smiles. Pauls starts ponting at the thing, telling me all about the one he
wants built at the Custom Shop - gold this, chrome that, 15 switches, etc.
That's when I get the idea!!!
I stand there, polite and all, listening to him with an eye on the sales guy.
When Paul's done I say, "Yeah, that sounds pretty cool man". Then I turn to the sales guy and say,
"Hey man.... uhhhh... where do ya'keep all your Rickenbackers?"
You should have seen his face!!! The guy actually winced! He says, " Uhhhhh... I'm sorry sir, we don't carry anything but Gib** instruments in this store". I look at him and say,
"Geeeez, that's too bad - C'mon Paul, lets go". Paul's standing there with his mouth open, still pointing at the guitar as I'm going out the door, about to crack up. Paul gets outside and swears he'll never go anywhere with me again!
(We have since, made up)
Guys, I ain't laughed that hard since I saw Junior Banks set his britches on fire at the
FFA weenie roast!
Do you really think that one of the world's premier guitar stores is embarrassed not to be carrying Rickenbackers? The only person you embarrassed was yourself, and you apparently can't even see that. If the salesman really did wince, it was only out of misplaced sympathy for you making yourself look foolish. 