Twice a year we are treated to the Philly Guitar Show.  Today was the fall show.  Unfortunately our usual Bizarre Weather<tm> kicked in to make it more like the Frozen Tundra edition.  Yes, technically winter doesn’t happen for a month but you can’t tell Philly weather anything.

Off we went, at some terrible hour of the morning for guitarists (they open at ten am).  To be precise, only one of us is a guitar player - and the worst kind - a lefty.  The other is his long-suffering wife.  Being a lefty is very a special thing.  When I say very special, I mean in the way a mother tells her child he’s very special.  It’s a code phrase for shit-out-of-luck.

Being a lefty means you pay at least twenty percent more for a guitar, if you can get it at all.  It means that you sell for twenty percent less.  You have no selection.  Heaven help you if you want to try a guitar before buying - you may have a selection of two offshore generic guitars if you’re lucky.

The guitar show has been falling off lately, both in quantity of interesting gear and attendance.  The one thing that hasn’t falled off is the prices.  For some reason, having vintage gear is like an invitation to print money.  Judging by the shows, it’s also economy and recession-proof.  As crappy as things are, the prices are still right up there.

Entrance to the show was a bit blocked by some sort of foo-foo ladies’ show, the name of which was so memorable I can’t recall it.  The first funny moment was provided by the looks on these ladies’ faces when they saw a bunch of guitar players walking near them.  They were all pretty Martha Stewart types who did not approve of guitars players in their midst.  This was pointed out by my wife, who kept asking why those women were looking down their noses at us.

Speaking of which, the history of women at guitar shows is very interesting (especially to those of us who are interested in these things).  Let me state it this way: women are scarce.  There is always a small handful of troopers who show up to support their significant others.  For this I am personally grateful, as my wife is a good sport (she married me, after all).  About ten years ago, a few vendors got the idea to hire some `models’ to walk around with signs and some of their wares.  It was very funny to watch.  Rest assured they got noticed.

Unfortunately guitar players are weird birds (to be polite).  There was an episode of The Simpsons in which Homer met George Harrison.  Homer says, “OH MY GOD…. LOOK AT THAT BROWNIE!” (that George was holding).  My wife was pointing out a statuesque vision of female perfection and I was looking at a 1977 lefty Telecaster Deluxe.

The rent-a-babe concept died after two shows and I have to say that as much as I love beautiful women (and I love beautiful women), it’s not that big a loss.  Now more significant others show up, as well as female vendors.  I have yet to see an actual female play a guitar at one of these shows but I’m sure it’s imminent.

Fortunately for me, today was Breast Day.  I have no idea what inspired it but I remain thankful.  There were several sets of breasts prominently displayed for all to see.  Rest assured I was looking (even at a guitar show, I’m still a guy) - as they said in that baseball movie: “Display Them and We Will Look.”  What was particularly impressive was that this happened in spite of the frigid weather.  I had half a mind to set up a stand as a breast-warmer but I was there to handle……  errr…  play guitars.  Plus, as I typed, I had half a mind.  Also interestingly, the breasts most on display were not young or other-than-original-equipment breasts.  They started in their late thirties and up.  It was a heartwarming display of femininity that one does not see in the press or magazines.

Breasts aside (after all, this IS a guitar show), we entered to find a perennial favorite, the folks from Greyhound Rescue.  They brought a number of Greyhounds that were up for adoption.  These people seem to be the best-promoted dog rescue group.  Their message tends to be seen far and wide.  They get Greyhounds who have been thrown away, from race tracks and owners, and try to find them new homes.  Fortunately I got my wife away from there before Marshall got a brother.  The cat would look mighty comical hanging from a Greyhound, as opposed to a Cocker.

The first booth with actual near-guitar content was a local tube audio guy.  Most notable was a NARB head [Ken Bran worked with Jim Marshall and put out these `Marshall' amps during a legal dispute].  I almost had to be pulled away from this table, as he also had TUBE SOCKETS.  I have a fatal attraction to electronic parts.

A few paces down featured the most incredible collection of Marshall amps I have ever seen in person.  This was courtesy of a store from Tennessee.  There were examples from the first few runs, purple Marshalls, and some Orange amps thrown in.  I even saw a nice lefty Les Paul with a much nicer burst finish than my `58 reissue.  I think some of the square-badged Marshall heads were going for five figures.

Unfortunately my wife forgot her camera and I am encumbered by the piece of garbage camera in my Treo.  I am also saddled with the hands of a skilled brain surgeon (and the nerves of a crack addict) so the pictures tend to feature a certain blur…

Somebody had a poor, battered lefty burst Strat with nothing more than a price tag of $28,000.  I stopped and stared for a few moments, grokking its magnificence.  With my trademark extra large Dunkin Donuts coffee in one hand, I put my right hand around the neck and felt a magnificent vintage late 50’s V-neck.   I couldn’t bear to actually play it, lest I had to be dragged from the venue.  Never even got to ask about the guitar.

We passed by a small booth with a nice old Les Paul.  The tag said it was purchased from the original owner down south.  It was a late 50’s.  And it was only two hundred thousand dollars.  Ladies and gentlemen, my house did not cost two hundred thousand dollars.  The wife was most impressed.

We heard the strangest noises coming from somewhere.  I tracked it down to the display with the new Moog guitar.  There were a number of them, all pretty nice looking.  A fellow was playing one into what appeared to be a solid-state Vox amp.  What was most impressive was that when the guitar got done sustaining physically, it kept going electronically.  The guy just stood there, playing with the infinite sustain and the whammy bar.  I asked the booth fellow about lefties.  He assured me they were next to be produced and apologized for not having them.

I met Jason Arthur, of JCA Circuits, at his booth.  He recently took his amp company full-time, leaving the rather interestingly-described gig at a concrete plant.    His amps looked really nice but I didn’t have a lot of time to listen to them.  Someone I trust just heard one and was quite impressed.  The killer was the reprint of the review of one of these amps calling it the best twenty watt amp ever.  Most of the reviewers hate every amp, so this was a real coup.  These amps are very expensive but apparently for good reason.

JK Lutherie had an abbreviated display, where my wife got some percussion videos.  Suffice it to say that one guitarist and a stable of younger percussionists are a real crowd, especially when there only appears to be two.

It was a good place to spend a few grand for 70’s Strats.  This is not necessarily a good thing, especially as they’re my favorite `affordable’ collectible.  I only saw one lefty and it was the neck I don’t like so I successfully left it on its stand.

My good friends from Antique Electronics were there, complete with a display of all sorts of gadgets, knobs, parts, catalogs, and tube t-shirts.  My wife may be the only woman in the world who wears a t-shirt with a tube diagram on it.  The vendor told us people think they’re crop circles :)   Antique Electronics is a very interesting place… they have been selling new old stock tubes forever, as well as supplies to refurbish tube radios and equipment.  Recently they discovered guitar players so they are starting to (smartly) market to them by becoming authorized dealers for Fender, Marshall, and other parts.  One year on vacation in Arizona, we made a point of stopping by and dropping a bunch of Vacation Bucks there.  That was probably the only time they ever had someone coming by on his vacation.

If you were left-handed, as I am, there was only one place to be.  Of course I’m forgetting the name of the place (Groovy Guitars?) but he got hold of a collector’s sellout of rare lefties and I got to hold, stand, stare, and drool for a while.  Particularly notable was the number of Les Pauls.  It’s not every day you get to look at or play more than one Les Paul.  This guy had about half a dozen.  He had reissues that felt just like mine, 70’s Goldtop Deluxes (I always wanted one) in mind condition, a few generic Fenders, some really oddball Rics, the aforementioned late 70’s Tele Deluxe (in the vicinity of the aforementioned breasts), and my Show Favorite: a Custom Shop Strat.  It was relic’d, black, nondescript, but it had The Neck.  I have been looking for a decent Custom Shop neck forever and I finally found it.  My understanding is that this is the `56 neck.  It’s a nice medium chunky V.  When I order my Custom Shop Strat, it will have this neck.  No matter how many people tell me they love this neck, Fender doesn’t tend to put it on any of their guitars.  I will never understand this.

I hit the booth of the local West Chester Guitars, who mentioned that this was a great time to buy a Custom Shop guitar.  I told my wife that any time was a great time to buy a Custom Shop guitar.  The vendor restated this as I looked at a few of the offerings.  I agreed but told him that they were all backwards.  I like saying this because it always takes a while for the lightbulb to go on and them to figure out what I’m telling them (their guitars are all right-handed, hence backwards).  He gave me the stock line (this time as a joke) - We can always turn the nut around.  I told him I’d take them all then.  He showed me a Strat with a `56 neck which was consistent with the one I liked.  This is MY neck.

There were all sorts of interesting peripherals items being sold.  My wife had to be carried away from a vendor who had silver and turquoise indian jewelry.   Lots of places to buy bodies, necks, and various parts.

I also saw interesting rare items, including a Trainwreck head, a pair of Komet heads, some old Roger Mayer pedals, tube Echoplexes, a 1960 blonde Fender Reverb tank that I coveted, bizarro Leslies, and of course the normal sparkly drumset for no particular reason.

One parts place had some white plastic Marshall logos.  I suggested putting a chain on it and putting it around our Marshall’s neck - the world’s first Cocker with bling.  Turns out one of the guys there also had a Cocker named Marshall (and another called Jackson).  Oh well.

I also learned that if you want a lefty pickguard for any guitar, you cannot get one even if you wave several hundred thousand dollars around in midair.

I saw several lefty SG’s, which is very weird.  In fact, I consider SG’s weird.  I guess because of the way they’re designed, they’re all neck.  When I play one, I always fear that my hand will fly off the end of the neck by accident and I’ll never see it again.  This is, of course, an irrational fear, as my hand will barely reach the end of the neck.  I told you it’s all neck.

Another prime lefty spot was DHR Guitars.  They had a magnificent booth this time out.  DHR specializes in lefty jazz boxes.  I looked at a few.  They were so nice that I knew my playing would never allow me to purchase one.  I have a picture of one with a twenty thousand dollar price tag.  Not even as a joke would I try that guitar out.  He also had a pair of lefty Elliot Easton SG’s and what looked like a lefty Super 400 (I’m bad with jazz boxes).  Magnificent stuff but definitely lacking in Fender content.  He even had a bunch of lefty acoustics.

There’s one vendor with a battery-free guitar amplifier.  My wife wanted to know how it worked.  I asked her if she was familiar with a stethoscope (she’s a nurse).  She hit me for some reason.

All in all it was a very good show, both in content and attendance.  If I can convince one of my linux boxes to pull the alleged pictures from my Treo, I’ll get them posted.   I’ll also update this as I remember more of what I saw.

Interestingly enough I finally figured out why I’ll never be any good at playing jazz: I just don’t have the volume control adjusting down correctly.  Every time I saw a player or two at a booth, they’d play a riff then adjust the volume control.  After a few of these, I realized this is where my deficit lies.  I just never got the hang of adjusting my volume between riffs.  Right now I can’t afford a course in volume adjustment if I could even find one, so I’ll stick with blues and classic rock.  One should know one’s limitations.

Lastly I would like to thank years of presidents, congresscritters, and New World Order types for being so successful at their job: sucking every last cent out of the taxpayers.  As a result of their brilliant planning and legislation, I managed to pay the admission fee but couldn’t afford much more than a t-shirt otherwise.  Nice job, guys.