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Thursday, November 27, 2008

old pic found...

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

next up...

Black or Zebra new or relic Bobbins (50mm)
Acid etched or new Nickel adjustable pole screws (south polarity) and slugs (north polarity)
PAF correct Anti Clockwise winding
Original spec 42 AWG enamel copper wire
AlNiCo 5 or 2 vintage correct M56 pattern Bar Magnets, All individually magnatized by me, using rare earth Neo-dymium Boride polarizing magnets to recreate 50 year old Alnico. Exacting, aged replication.
Wooden slug bobbin spacers (not plastic!)
Output wiring is 12" Shielded (ground) and black inner (active) 22 AWG celanese wrap and waxed braided, vintage pushback wiring or modern 4 wire black/white, red/green

Monday, November 17, 2008

hand scatterwound in the telecaster....

same same builder...first set i bought which I followed up with by buying a set of srv 59's..

Hand Scatterwound pups

Don't take my word for it....these are the dogs and the difference even compared to my Eric Johnson set isn't worth discussing...

Friday, November 14, 2008

Its probably me..... are strange times indeed....feels like full circle.
Hotel I'm booked in is as much a 3 star as I'm a 3 star general...nevermind, first thing was to fix the wallsocket to wack in some juice to the top, then remove the top of the toilet to fix the system...only then could I finally lie down and...ok, the TV is so small that aint gonna work...
I needed a booking quickly and the address fitted the bill as did the price..5 minutes from palexpo and 5 minutes from the more than important meeting.

So. Geneva.Place of birth. Weird...very very strange feeling to arrive at an airport so familiar but only in another time scale where Dad would be waiting for me. He looked almost legendary tall back then and commanded my respect as all Dads should...(strive too anyway)..
This time I was standing alone almost waiting for him to walk up. He's past on now so that wasn't on the cards. Airport still the same. Details in the memory bank always surprises after 26 years, alcohol, drugs, concussions, motorcycle accidents, car crashes...and yet I still remembered those details from all those years ago..and it was strange..nothing to fill that void where he once stood..

So, threw the bags in the hotel once the bitsnbobs were fixed and headed out to go for a walk and do some recon for food. I only made it 100 meters up the road. I also realised that the hotel I was staying in was obvioulsy for those of us that have lived in Kortadala and not had a problem with "those" people...if you get what I'm sayin'..

I walked into a restaurant and had a spy.The woman behind the bar was complaining about the people traffic and explained that she would not serve me the "plat de jour"...she smelled the tourist, or so she thought...everybody seemed to have so much bling bling on them I wondered if 50 cents had finally left some kind of legacy...this seems to be the Swiss way, mucho bling, bracelets, rings, tacky shit if you ask me..I ordered a meal that I hadn't had for the same amount of years that I'd been travellin', "fillet de perche" covered in herbs and such.Amazing...once again the rather tedious story of Dad always buying it bla bla...but such was the case and he would be around in the short time I would be here as he was my only connection to the city of my birth.

Despite informing that I could indeed understand the lingo I still had the comedy set up of miss campervan blingbling asking the younger waitress to inform me of just about everything.
Early night, just can't understand why they dub...that I really don't miss....and so much as well! La Swede, douze points for not dubbing!!!!

Meeting done and dusted I went for a walk.Despite the boy at reception looking like his kin had once come from dafur he was surprised when I informed him that I would be walking the 3,5 km into Geneve..He seemed very impressed...youth of today I suppose..

Walking down the street and a lot came back from the brain foundations to the front of the forehead, as well as some querys...u know, the usual..for a start, I nearly stepped in dogshit...fuck me, must one mine sweep in Switzerland!?! Of course, the land of banks, chocolate and nose in the air is as everywhere else except for Sweden, only human in the fact that picking up dogshit isn't a hobby as it is in Sweden...although, having to minesweep and dodge reminds me of the days in Scotland, full time occupation walking down the high art of the century...

Geneva in my opinion, is keep it simple and laymans terms as I'm not bright enough to come up with a fancy pants word...Geneva is a contradition. Thats it. The whole shebang is one huge things get tricky, a contradiction of what?..well, its a contradiction of a stereotype ideology that I feel we have about this rather interesting " neutral " caymans situated in the middle of Europe..
You kinda get the idea is that everybody is kinda well off, have nice watches and eat fondu keep everything clean and structured...anal in a way ..Riches anal with nice banks and watches...
But the reality is very different...There is a horrible gap between the non contradictional stereotype and humans that are living the poor, the tramps, homeless, gypys all hang around and bring back memoirs of Cluj Napoka in Romania as opposed to Geneva..No shit, wheres the horse and hat...sharpen the Knives...then you start noticing how many non caucation people are walking, this is turning Tarantino and the speech about Moors fucking and interbreeding so much the Italians go dark from fair...The Swiss are dark, almost Romani style...and the housing surround the centre looks ....well, looks out of place...

Now then , its late, I'm hitting the sack so I'll continue another day....

going once, going twice...gone

Thursday, November 13, 2008

The sights, sounds and memoirs of travel...

Not sure why but I've become a wee bit scared when it comes to climbing into civil aircraft.
So having flights included in my position as International sales aint so easy....and the fact that I don't really enjoy the drink doesn't really help...
Add to this that due to the economy once buys economy, you just know your gonna be sitting either behind on the 737 or infront of the Fokker, of the engines...even an Ipod with bose headphones struggles to get around the roar....

So the day starts with the bus trip from home and once again I hit the jackpot and got on the så kallad "cat piss" bus.There is a bus 60 that stinks of cat piss.I thought I was dreamin until others who take the same bus also asked the question.Its fucking gross....and then we have Mr pissypants tramp who sits on the same bus.So for the price of a cup of tea and a slice a cake, you get the human and animal stench for 10 minutes.....

Moving on you then get to your seat on the plane, mind the economy seat, and when they start raising the revs on the jet engines you get a tremendous stench of aviation gas...ever had that smell hit your nostrils? Always makes me wonder if it is indeed a good thing...They must have an overspill valve...or ???

Upon arriving to Amsterdam I did have a laugh when watching the aircraft cleaners truck turn out to do a quick 25 minute turnaround on the city hopper..No joke, but the first person out was chinese, followed by a black fella with rasta, followed by an indian woman and finally a Persian looking person.Perhaps this will feature in one of Obamas many new books as a cover about providing the American dream?
Talking of which, Mr Bush has really ensured my fear of anybody that remotely looks suspicious at an airport.Today I had to go through three x-ray machines and watched as people had to hand over expensive lotions and creams as it was over 100mg or you think they have worked out that 100mg/ml couldn't blow a plane out of the sky?