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Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country...

Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country...

Comparing guitars shows to each other is just like comparing cars. Some are like a rusted, old Volkswagen sitting in your front yard: no matter what you do, you just can't seem to get the thing to work. On the other hand, other shows are like a Ferrari; the thing is fast from the start and you don't stop running around in it until you're tired. This past weekend's Spartanburg show was most definitely a 308GT and as to the Volkwagen reference, I'll let you use your own imagination on that comparison. Lee and I had a great time and got some killer pieces and I mean guitars that are worth getting excited over. Now, it's off to the races....

  • Photo 1.
  • Here's the front door of the show at Saturday's opening bell. What you can't see is that the line extended out of the front of the hall and onto the sidewalk. It's a testament to certain Southern shows that have held onto their integrity and sense of tradition and fairplay. To our knowledge, everything that came to the show actually made it into the show and for those of us who pay to have booths, it's a great and novel idea.....

  • Photo 2.
  • We were honored to have two of the most storied and fabled practitioners of the musical arts next to our booth, Mr. Hank Sable and Mr. Rod Norwood, formerly of that great dynasty known to the "old- timers" as Rod and Hank's Guitars. They could not be more opposite in disposition, whereas Hank will walk into a show chewing on a handful of rusty 16 penny nails like they sunflower seeds, Rod will put a flower in the barrel of your M-16 if you point it at him. We've been seeing them working as a tandem at some of the recent shows and it begs the question; Is it possible that an official, Peaches- n- Herb reunion could be taking place? Reunited and it feels so good? We think it would be a great thing to have these weary warlords of the road back together again, but whenever I see them as a pair, the feeling always comes upon me that I am looking at Lee and I in about 15 years and I wonder, why do I have to be the short one with the plaid shirt.....?

  • Photo 3.
  • Remember back in High school, in the 70's when Robert John had that one smash hit, "Sad Eyes"? That was one of my favorite songs and it brings back all the memories of my first girlfriend and the inevitable breakup. Then, I'd call her and play the song over the phone- it was all that goofy stuff we used to do back when we were young. Well, over the years, I've often wondered what happened to Robert and where he is today. Surprise of surprises, he owns AMR Music down in Savannah, Ga. and looks like he dropped a few pounds to boot. I asked Mr. John what that song was really about and he told me that is was the story of how, as a teenager his Uncle had taken his favorite pig "to the barn" one day and before he knew what had happened, the family was having ribs for supper and fresh bacon the next morning. Poor ol' pig and thank God my old girlfriend back in High school never knew the truth. She thought that song was about her all this time.....

  • Photo 4.
  • Guy on the left: So I says, "Is that really sweat on your shirt"?
  • Guy on right: "No, it's my cologne. Patti bought it for me. It's called Small Elf in the Night".
  • GOL: So I says, "Did you get anything with a broken headstock this weekend"?
  • GOR: "Hey, I hit .400 just like Ted Williams. He was dat baseball player, ya know"?
  • GOL: So I says, "That's great, Craig. What did you drive to the show this weekend"?
  • GOR: "Hey, I drove a Punta Laguardia 650 GZ Uptight with a spindle sprocket and a Dutchboy oven in da back".
  • GOL: So I says, "So you're the Craig Brody I've heard about. Is that really, really, really sweat on your shirt"?
  • GOR: "Don't get wise wit me, ya snozz. If I could find my stool, I'd punch ya right in da mouf"......

  • Photo 5.
  • Speaking of former dynastys, we will now perform an 'Elk first and refer to one Mr. Craig Brody twice in the same show report (a first for him, I'm sure) He is in the book, "The Galaxy of Strats" and was purported to have bought everything at the 1991 Wilmington Guitar Show. He even bought the tables and converted them into a false kitchen floor at his house so he could reach the appliances. But alas, all great thing must fall and therein lies the heart of this story. The behemoth known as "The Guitar Broker" is no more; it has been consumed by a force so great, it cannot be registered on even the most accurate Richter Magnitude Scale at Cal Tech. The giant formerly known as Craig Brody has humbly bowed to the new titan of significance and stature...Patti's Fendi bag. Now go get your shine box.....

  • Photo 6.
  • This is the ATM machine located in the parking lot of most Bee- 3 Guitar shows. It attaches directly to Doug's ( the fine gentleman that eyeballs the front door) personal bank account. Every time someone tried to use this portable machine, they would put their card in and instead of getting cash, they would get a Cheerios boxtop that had the following message written in green crayon: "Hi. Thanks for the contribution. IOU _______ (fill in blank). Love, Doug. Now that's the entrepreneurial spirit if we've ever seen it!

  • Photo 7.
  • This is Guido. This picture was taken right after he stuffed a trunk gypsy known as "Kentucky Mike" into a garbage can for trying to buy a guitar in his booth. At first, we were stunned by the act and then, it hit us: if any of you weekend warriors think you can pay $15.00 to get into a guitar show and then have the gall to walk into a booth that can cost upwards of $400.00 to try to buy a guitar, please be prepared to accept the consequences. Legitimacy is measured truly by devotion and we applaud Guido and any other musical instrument dealer than is willing to stand up for this rare thing we do. We are part of a very small and special fraternity: the men who make their living buying and selling guitars. It is about more than just making a quick dollar; it's about the handling, playing and placing of fine vintage and collectible instruments into the hands of people that love and deserve them. That's fair warning served and I hope Guido doesn't mind if we call him Lebron the next time we see him....

  • Photo 8.
  • This innocent- looking young lass is none other than Stacey. Not only is Stacey an avid science fiction fan, but she is also married to Scott, the Lord of Darkness. Scott, (when not making sacrificial offerings or turning men into toads with his malevolent powers), enjoys a double decker Demon burger, Beelzebub fries and a Supernatural shake on his down time at the world- famous Beacon restaurant. This unlikely Heaven and Hell couple invited Ray and I down to the Beacon next year to dine with them. Scott, we'll be right there, but let us finish our copy of War in Heaven first. We're practicing the defilement of Earth and how to corrupt it's people.

  • Photo 9.
  • This highly manicured lady of stature is the CEO of a very successful nationwide vacuum cleaner manufacturing plant. During the week, she is accustomed to being exalted by overly- eager employees as they lay their jackets down over rain puddles so she don't dampen her Manolo Blahnik designer shoes as she exits her BMW. Conversely, on show weekends she is known to a select few as the "Brownie Lady". Randy (her husband) and I eat those brownies like Scooby- Doo eats scooby snacks. I noticed something peculiar about those delightfully textured, brown squares of sinful goodness; After Randy and I eat them, we are suddenly transfixed on the spiritual teachings of Buddha, we collectively solve complex world problems and we laugh like little children in church. This lasts for about an hour and then, as if the hand of God himself comes down, I feel a strong urge to go back and sample more of these wonderful, yet addictive brown morsels. Randy suggested that we go and get some milk to go with our brownies, so with that, we piled off in the car to get what we needed. Randy: "Hey man, how am I drivin"? Lee: "I think we're parked man". With that, we busted out laughing again. Do you see what Cindy's brownies can do for you?

  • Photo 10.
  • Ruslana's life is sewn with patches of triumph, complexity and adversity. She has criss-crossed the globe for years, participating in two Olympic Games and dozens of world championships as an athlete. She hails from the the Ukraine and is a master with the Foil Blade. (we call it a sword, but what do we know) As many of you may know, Ruslana lost the Gold metal match to Anja Fichtel-Mauritz of West Germany in Seoul Korea. As you may recall, Anja advanced with three quick balestras and stepped back, forcing Ruslana to come closer. She then threw her arm above her head and vigorously attacked with a large lunge, making it almost half-size of the stripe. She would aim the hit either at the shoulder or the back of her opponent, and there was practically no chance for Ruslana to avoid it. When I asked Ruslana if she felt the Gold medal eluded her? She replied, "Sure, but I converted disappointment into success, then grief into Olympic glory". "How so", I inquired? "Well, if it wasn't for my defeat in the 88 Olympics, I wouldn't have found myself here in America and furthermore, I would not have had the opportunity to meet Gary and Bonnie (the show promoters) which led me to my future husband". She went on to say, "I won by the loss". Friends, that is deep indeed but just between you and I, don't cross her. You never can trust a women with a sharp object. Don't believe me? Just ask John Bobbitt....

    Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country... Spartanburg, 2010- Just Another Weekend in God's Country...