Day of Reckoning
I always knew, deep in my fluttering heart, the Day of Reckoning was going to come. As sure as winter comes every year, as certain as Monday and the timeclock, as predictable as Christmas sales starting in November, it’s got to be faced. And no, I’m not talking about that vote in Alabama too close to be called between a man who as a federal prosecutor brought justice to the bombers of the Birmingham church that killed those kids back in the 60’s and the man who rather date kids, not that kind of reckoning.
Naw, I’m talking a little closer to home, way closer to the bone. I remember the day when I had nearly completed my little homemade sailboat and the time came to cut the slot in the bottom for the centerboard keel to slip through. You know if you make a wrong move, all the work that preceded this will be for naught. So you put it off, you double check your calculations, then you put it off some more. But … there comes that day when you just gird your loins and hold your breath and put the saw right down the bottom of the boat you spent a month building.
The boat survived the saw. I outfitted it with black sails and launched her a few weeks later. It wasn’t the most elegant of vessels and it certainly wasn’t fast under sail. I flipped it on a camping trip up in the San Juans and this time, I survived, evidently not a Day of Reckoning for the builder, not that day anyway.
Today I’m doing the final work on my handmade guitar, the one I’ve been obsessing over for weeks. If all goes well, I’ll have it strung up and played by mid-afternoon. The neck has been attached and the top glued down so there’s no more room for adjustments or corrections. It pretty much is what it is. I’ll put on the nut and the tuning machines, attach the walnut pickguard, screw down the fancy tailpiece and set the bridge. Then wind up six strings, monkey with the action as much as possible, then pick out a song and see what it sounds like.
It may sound crummy, I don’t know. Like I say, Day of Reckoning. If it doesn’t sound good, I can’t do a single thing about it, the deed is done, the die is cast and I can hang it on the wall as a testament to over-ambition, unwarranted optimism, bone-headed endeavor … or just call it wall art. I figure Stradivarius had to build fiddle #1. Course, he probably apprenticed for ten years under a master. Well, like my old man always said, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Nothing lost either, I’m figuring. At least not lives….
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Tags: guitar building, luthiery for the deaf
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I should have results in a few long hours. Got to do some set-up, try multiple bridges, get the action as low as possible, drink a few shots of whiskey and forget the niceties of wiping my chin. Statistics statistics statistics. They never, as we all know in these faux news times, lie. They might whimper, exaggerate and beat their little fists on the walls of my cage, but lie? I don’t think so. The truth will out, the sound will escape, my guitar building days will end. This afternoon I will return to my boat and the crab pots I set out last night. Worst case, I’ll play the blues.
I hope your guitar sounds as good as it looks!
Beauty, as is oft said. lies in the ear of the guy doin the holdin. I was pretty anxious about how it sounded and how it played. It’s got a big booming bass but I’d like to bring the trebles into balance (if possible). I have a one inch high bridge with a bone saddle to compensate for the elevated fretboard and I’m wondering if I should skinny it up or ??? The action wasn’t great at first, but I re-carved the neck yesterday and it was a lot better. I played a friend’s Taylor this afternoon and now I want to skinny my own neck down until it plays like glass or becomes a noose. All in all, tho, I’m way happier than I am disappointed … and you can maybe guess which I figured would win out. It doesn’t help that my other main guitar is a 1963 00-21 Martin to compare it to. Altho, maybe that’s better than the 10 dollar thrift store model I bought for possibly tearing apart and practicing first on a throw-away. At least I didn’t end up with its twin brother.