I love my kids. I also used to work on Wall Street which, for those of you who don’t know, is approximately the same distance from my home that Saturn is from yours. Astronomically speaking, that equals two kids who never got to see their father. Or at least that’s how it seemed to me one day in 2002 while rushing down Wall Street in an effort to catch the Ferry.

As I was walking home from work with some extra cash in my pocket (an anomaly I assure you), I stopped at a street vendor to see what wares he was purveying. Mostly I spied the usual books, incense, imitation leather phone holsters, absolutely real Rolex watches and golf clubs (yes, really). As I was about to continue on my way, some bright colors caught my eye. Resting on the finely crafted folding card table, nestled between the books and the incense, were packaged sets of brightly colored blocks. read more »

One of the questions I see on the guitar forums quite a bit is, “What kind of pickups does this Guild guitar have?” Since I’ve posted i many of these threads, I seem to get a lot of emails with the same question. I thought that I might write up a quick summary of the differences as I know them.

First, let me say that I am by no means the expert on Guild guitars. That honor goes to Hans Moust, author of the excellent book entitled The Guild Guitar Book. Most of what I’ve learned about Guild pickups, I attribute to Hans helping me via email and through forum posts. If you’d like to learn more about Guild guitars, I heartily recommend that you pick up a copy of his book.

I have been a psuedo-collector of Guild guitars since I bought my first real guitar – a Guild S300A-D in 1979. I’ve had the pleasure and good fortune to be able to own many Guild electrics since then, some of which are included on this page. Enough about me though, let’s take a lot at some Guid pickups, starting with the vintage HB1.  read more »

I’m going to let you in on a little secret about me. Actually, I’m going to reveal two, but only because both secrets are germane to the tale. The first secret isn’t very scandalous, and it’s probably not much of a secret either, but I’ve been bearing the burden of this boring secret for too long, and so the truth must be revealed. You see, I like bran muffins.

Shameful, I know.

Being the quirky, pain-in-the-ass, control freak that I am, I will not settle for just any bran muffins. The bran muffins I demand are made by our local supermarket chain, ShopRite. I should also mention that of all the ShopRites I’ve ever visited, only one makes bran muffins the way I like them. Did I mention that I’m a quirky control-freak who is also a pain-in-the-ass? Check with my wife. She will confirm every last bit of that last compound-adjective-laden sentence. read more »

Mr. Guinness is a very brave boy. For example, he has scared off hundreds of very dangerous bicyclists from the road in front of our house. His fence is probably 150 feet from the road and the cyclists don’t even know they’re being barked at, let alone by whom. But he barks, and then they’re gone, so clearly he scared them away. For these and other acts of bravado, we award Guinness with constant commendations for bravery befitting a proper Newfoundland dog.

In other words, we tell him to shut up about thirty times a day. read more »

If you live anywhere in the northeastern United States, then you’ve probably seen the bumper sticker that proudly proclaims,This car climbed Mt. Washington. As a boy who spent a week every summer in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the ubiquitous bumper sticker seemed to be a badge of honor. Mount Washington is the tallest peak in the northeast after all, so any car that climbed to the top must be something special. In my (almost) 47 years, I had never been to the top of Mount Washington. For those 47 years, the cars with the red, white and blue bumper sticker silently mocked me while smugly passing me on the interstate. My shame was profound.

The summit of Mount Washington is home to what is affectionally called the worst weather in the world. They have recorded winds as high as 231 miles per hour at the summit, and temperatures as low as -50 degrees Fahrenheit. If Hell has a stronghold on Earth, I bet it’s at the summit of Mount Washington, though only in the winter, and only if you believe in Hell, and only if that Hell is a cold place. read more »