newsletter privacy
Vintage Electric Guitars, Autographed Electric Guitars, Collectible Electric Guitars, Rare Electric Guitars, Electric Guitars for Sale Vintage Acoustic Guitars, Autographed Acoustic Guitars, Collectible Acoustic Guitars, Rare Acoustic Guitars, Acoustic Guitars for Sale Vintage Bass Guitars, Autographed Bass Guitars, Collectible Bass Guitars, Rare Bass Guitars, Bass Guitars for Sale Vintage Amplifiers, Autographed Amplifiers, Collectible Amplifiers, Rare Amplifiers, Amplifiers for Sale, Vintage Amps, Autographed Amps, Collectible Amps, Rare Amps, Amps for Sale Vintage Cases, Autographed Cases, Collectible Cases, Rare Cases, Cases for Sale, Vintage Guitar Cases, Autographed Guitar Cases, Collectible Guitar Cases, Rare Guitar Cases, Guitar Cases for Sale Vintage Guitar Effects, Autographed Guitar Effects, Collectible Guitar Effects, Rare Guitar Effects, Guitar Effects for Sale miscellaneous items

Chuckenstein and Wayneburger- Harvesters of Sorrow....

Chuckenstein and Wayneburger- Harvesters of Sorrow....

The two men in this picture are the "Romulus and Remus" of the guitar business. They are known industry- wide as "Chuckenstein and Wayneburger" and for their steely- eyed stares and ability to crush mortal men at will. But, what's not so widely known is that they are in reality the co- CEO's of Rumbleseat Music and are directly responsible for the fine display of vintage guitars and burro blankets we see at most of the larger guitar shows. The story, (as told to us by our attending hospital nurse on Monday following the show) is that these two were abandoned as young children and left in the snow at the mouth of a giant cave in the frigid Arctic some many years ago. It was there, in that forbidden wasteland that they were taken in by the Dark Overlord himself, the Mysterious Mr. E. and raised in the ways merciless power and brutal dominance over the mortals of Earth. When they had completed their training as associate destroyers of the weak, they received their green and red striped sweaters and were given the task of bringing the accumulated bounty of the Dark One to the guitar shows of the East and Midwest of America. To wander down the aisle where these two languished in fetid dominance over their neighbor dealers was to step into fear itself. Not only would you be forced to buy a guitar or blanket at full price, but you would have to pay a "lucky you didn't get your noggin thumped" tax and be danged happy about it. Where mortals fear to tread indeed....So, on the return trip from the Arlington show, Lee and I decided that we were going to stand up for the "little feller" and attempt to change the the ways of these two beasts of Armageddon. And, that means we hatched yet another 'Elk plan: We waited for these two to finish their evening meal after the show on Saturday (we're not quite sure what they were eating, but it was raw) and followed them back to their hotel. When we heard the snores of the dammed, Lee and I quietly snuck into their room and ever- so gently placed headphones on each of their craniums. To walk so close to being rendered into pieces while still alive had us both sweating like two hookers in a Baptist church. We then attached the two headsets to Lee's Ipod and hit "continuous play" on Poison's "Look What the Cat Dragged In" and got out of there like two greased hogs with our curly tails on fire. As we arrived at the guitar show on Sunday, we nervously waited to see what the effects of repeated C.C. DeVille solos would do to these wretched heathens of doom. They walked in and 'lo and behold, they were both smiling! Chuckenstein walked up to the show promoters, gave them both hugs and said "Good Morning". Wayneburger stopped to help a guitar dealer that was carrying three guitars and even helped him set one of the guitars on his table and wiped his clawprints off of it before leaving. Lee and I were both stunned into silence until, my tall partner whispered, "We just have to get a picture of this. So, before I could protest, he eased over to the Rumbleseat booth and took the picture you see here: Chuckenstein and Waynburger, Masters of Mayhem playing air guitar with pink sparkle Jacksons, all the while singing "I Want Action Tonight" at the tops of their lungs. Man, we thought it had to be safe, so I walked up and said, " You two looks like a couple of girls with those sissy axes in your paws" and it was at that moment when their eyes glazed over, they took off their coats to reveal their green and red striped sweaters, put the guitars down and beat Lee and I to within an inch of our lives. I vaguely remember trying to explain to the emergency room doctors what had happened to us and hearing the words, "Yeah, right- so you say there were only two of them?....