Posted by thecowpokepicker on Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Well, what was it- about six months ago? I found one of my cousin's abused instruments sitting in a junkyard. Youch! an old ugly black bass guitar, the paint flaking off like birch bark. Not to mention the terrible truss, no-longer-working electrics, and warped pickguard. It was a mess.
The first time I saw it, I though, "No, this thing is unrepaiable! Even with my previous truss-rod training- it's immpossible!"
And so the sad little thing sat outside for another few months. I debated once and started carrying the heavy old thing with me; but when I actually felt the truss; I immediatly set it back down.
But it was like it was calling me; calling me back to it. I did need another project, though. And for the last time, I marched back down there and snatched it. WHAT A MISTAKE
I took it appart--- completely. Took the body and started chipping the paint. That took at least two weeks. Every day after school, sitting with a pocket knife and flicking tiny peices off, one by one. (luckily, I had a George Strait C-D to scare away self-consciousness and carpal tunnel)
And then, like I said; two weeks later and also twelve pieces of sand paper; it was beautifully picked off and sanded down. Time to paint. Ideas, ideas.
As you can imagine, I wanted to have fun, since I am I very good artist, too. I painted it up like an American Flag. Beautiful. Absolutly gorgeous. And just to make all of the guitar players roll their eyes, I painted a bald eagle's head on the back. Marvelous. Five coats of varnish later, the shell was done.
Oh, and did I remember to say that this was an Ibanez Roadstar 2 Series Bass? Pretty cool, right? Well, Ibanez did not take the credit for all of this work, so I scraped all of the paint off of the headstock and painted it black. Off came the logo. Over it, I painted three white stars. Goodbye, Ibanez.
I put the pickguard back on (after cutting out those useless shot electrics), then restrung her and installed a contact microphone, along with a miniture amp. Now, for the trussrod trouble.
Well, in other words, I'm still working on that. Every day, I crank it with an Allen wrench a fourth turn; very slowly and carefully. After all; who knows how old this thing is. At first, it was literally impossible to move until I loosened it up a bit. Every time I turn it, I can hear the wood crackling. How disturbing.
Well, Cousin Mike now wants to see his old bass. I plan to play it for him when I get the chance; and when this trussrod finally gets back in order. Whew, whenever that'll be!
I'll send pictures when I can, it's a beauty!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010 @7:09:13 AM
That's a great story......can't wait to see the pics. I've got a grandaughter that's 11.
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