The Paragon – Chapter 6 – DiPinto Guitars

A month or so later I was chatting with my coworker at my job, (The one who’s a musician and knows more about guitars and rock than I do) and he and one of the other guys, (Who’s the drummer in a local band called, Mesh) and they told me I should visit Dipinto Guitars up on Girard Avenue in Fishtown. I decided that on one of my epic walking tours around the city, I’d stop in there and check it out. They both said it was a great store and the owner was really cool.

A month or so went by and it was one of the rare warm days, and I was off and decided to make the journey up to the store. I went in and met the owner. I introduced myself and gave him a little of my history. This store was probably the best music store I had set foot inside in Philly. He had lots of great guitars, basses, and amps around the store. He had a nice collection of vintage instruments and effects pedals.

I had been out walking for a few hours and asked if I could use his bathroom. He obliged and took me to the back room that led to a flight of stairs to the basement.

Even this guy’s bathroom was cool.

Just the coolest bathroom in Philly by far. It was like stepping into my past 40 years ago when I owned a few of those posters and rock band mirrors that I had won on the boardwalk in Wildwood as a teenager!

We chatted about his history and it was quite impressive. He’s played in several bands throughout the years and still played locally when he could. He also made and customized his own line of instruments. Like Paul McCartney and Jimi Hendrix, Mr. DiPinto is a lefty. He’s supplied guitars to some other left-handed guitarists over the years. He’s also built and sold guitars for several other famous musicians, like David Bowie, Jack White, Elliot Easton, Rick Neilson, Dick Dale, Kurt Vile, and LA Guns.

Mr. DiPinto played in a band called Wastoid and opened for Judas Priest at The Electric Factory back in the early 2000s and I told him I saw his band because I was at that show!

I also noticed he had a nice collection of vintage effects pedals in a glass case under the counter. So overall this was a very cool store run by a really talented industrious guy. Most of us musicians at one time had the dream of making it big and being a famous rockstar but this man has definitely had a taste of that and now runs a successful business. So good for him!

We chatted a bit more trading stories and I wandered around the store looking for the next instrument that would maybe light me up. I really liked some of the guitars he had made himself because they all had a unique surf-rock vibe to them and had some interesting lines and aspects about them.

He has some regular stuff like these Squiers and Strats…

Some crazy heavy metal type guitars… (very cool and flashy but I already have a cool guitar. I want something that’s nothing like my Iceman.

Here are a few of his custom-made designs. Bright, fun colors with classic vintage 1960s retro lines. Those groups of 4 dots are little buttons/switches you can hit with your fingers to change the sound. They control which pickups are on or off at any time. Looks cool, but in my opinion, less is more on a guitar. Still… they’re really nice guitars. But the biggest point that would stop me from buying one would be the price. They’re custom-made. They’re going to be expensive. Most are over $1000, so I won’t be getting one of those.

But there was this one guitar that was hanging up on the wall that really caught my eye. Not so much by its red color, but the way it looked and its pedigree.

That one… second from the left with the black pickguard.

It was a Tokai which is one of several Japanese guitar makers. I don’t think they make that model anymore. It’s a used 38 Special from around 1984. I liked how it was in decent shape, had a cool body, and was from around the period when the Iceman was born.

He let me take it down from the wall and play it a bit. It played just like my Iceman but was different in appearance. It was vintage and a rare guitar. You don’t really see these models anymore. I don’t know anything about the guitar’s history but it had been taken care of. Good shape, some dings here and there, and almost no buckle rash on the back.

But here’s the thing… the guitar was over $300 and a 30-year-old instrument. Another thing that struck me was that the volume and tone knobs on it were gold in color. They looked out of place. They appeared to be the knobs from a gold top Gibson Les Paul. Why were they gold, and why were they on this guitar? What else isn’t original on this guitar?

I looked up the model later on the internet and all of the pictures I saw had black knobs that looked more appropriate for this type of guitar. I know this may seem like a small detail for an old used guitar, but I think if I purchased it I’d never be happy with it. They just looked out of place.

But it was still a cool guitar and out of all of the guitars I’d looked at and played over the last three years this one did speak to me for several reasons. The shape, the color, the vintage and it played like my own guitar. So this guitar became the frontrunner in my musical quest. But I still had a slight problem with the knobs, the age, and the condition of the guitar. Oh, and $300+ for an old guitar that wasn’t one of the famous brands, sort of left me a bit cold. But, I’m sure if I had really shown interest in buying it, Mr. DiPinto would have replaced the knobs for me.

I told him I liked the axe but I’d have to sleep on it. Years ago I was a bit reckless with my money. I was compulsive in many aspects of my life and my youth. But as I’ve aged I’ve gone the other way. I’m super thrifty now. I don’t make impulsive decisions about anything anymore. Although I’m the same man I’ve always been in spirit and heart, I’ve literally gone in the opposite direction in my personal life. My core traits and talents remain but I’m different now. I rarely drink alcohol, no longer smoke cigarettes, eat nutritious food every day, and keep myself in healthy shape through proper diet and exercise. I’m no longer a young guy anymore. I’ve finally matured and take care of myself rather than feed my compulsive needs with frivolous things.

But I’m still a bit shallow when it comes to beautiful things. I love beauty. If the guitar doesn’t please me visually I’m not interested in it. I think the same thing goes for my romantic life. I’m 60 years old. I’m out of the game. I don’t have a girlfriend, and I no longer date or even want to date anyone. I like being alone. I want to come and go as I please and not answer to anyone. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s happiness but my own. It just wouldn’t be fair.

The type of woman I like and am attracted to all want to get married and have kids. I’m way past that. It wouldn’t be fair for me to get involved with a beautiful younger woman because she’ll eventually want those things. Don’t get me wrong, I totally understand it, but it wouldn’t be fair to her to be involved with me. So although I’ve enjoyed all the love and romance that has filled my past, I’m just done with it now.

I know it may sound a little shallow or picky, but if the old Tokai is a little worn and doesn’t have the right knobs on it, I just don’t really want to blow $300 plus tax on something that doesn’t please me every day. I need to feel that thing that Eric at the pawn shop told me about.

I was about to leave the store after having a lovely hour with Mr. DiPinto and his wonderful store when something caught my eye.

Over on the back wall were several guitar straps hanging together. But there was one in particular that I had never seen in real life.

Yes… the long-lost black guitar strap with the lightning bolt on it!

I maybe saw one once in Gilday’s music up in Northfield NJ back in 1980, or maybe in a rock magazine somewhere but I haven’t seen one in real life for a very long time. I always thought it would be the perfect strap for the Iceman to complete my look but I never could get my hands on one.

But here it was hanging on the wall among a variety of different types of straps. I walked over and touched it feeling a connection to the item. I could smell the leather as I checked the price tag.

$70! What? $70? for a strap? That seems outrageous. I told Mr. DiPinto the story about how I always wanted one and he told me I should get it. He makes his living selling things in his store and I really want to support local businesses but $70 seems like way too much for me to spend on a guitar strap. As much as that item means to me from a teenage fantasy perspective I can’t fathom spending that much on something like that.

So I left the store and thanked him for his time and told him I’d seriously think about the Tokai .38 Special.

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The Paragon – Chapter 4 – The Pawn Shop

I started to think about maybe getting an inexpensive electric guitar that I could play more often. Something different than the Iceman. But I didn’t want to spend much money. Just something I could bang around on. The Iceman was now 40 years old and a valuable antique. It’s still in mint condition because I always took good care of it, but it’s worth thousands of dollars now. I thought that if I could find a cheap electric guitar that was a bit more present, I’d play it more. I started to do some research and decided to shop around locally in search of this cheap guitar.

It seemed that in the last few years, I was always talking to people I’d met about music and playing rock. To me, this was a signal that I needed to not only play again but maybe try to become an even better musician. Maybe learn how to play some leads and learn some new songs to reignite my interest in making music again. I felt that it was always a part of me and was lying dormant in my mind for many years while I worked at my job.

I think when I started writing this blog back in 2016, my brain was calling out to me to create again.

A guy who was a former musician who ran the company that washed the windows at a restaurant where I worked would always come in and chat about music with me. He was a retired school teacher and loved the same rock I listened to. He eventually ended up giving me a Fender G-tec amplifier for free!

I was surprised and very grateful but also saw this as a signal that my heart was calling out to me to rock again. This was a few years ago around 2018. The Fender was a cool little amp that you could program bass and drum sounds into. I could hit a button and it would play a bass and drum track and then I’d play along with it. It was really fun to jam along with but I was still playing just small bits of songs I had known for four decades.

I think maybe one of the most exciting parts about playing guitar for me in the late seventies was writing songs and learning new songs from other artists. There was a certain rush that occurred when I’d figure out the riff to songs by Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith. I felt like I was getting better if I was walking in the footsteps of Jimmy Page or Joe Perry. I wanted to feel that way again.

The great thing about music is its purity. It will never hurt you and only bring you joy. It can give you a great high when you play and perform and doesn’t give you a hangover. Your music will never betray you or break your heart. It’ll comfort you when you’re sad, and energize you when you’re happy. It truly is the rhythm of life itself.

I decided to look into some of the local music stores in center city. This was about two years ago. I began with visiting my friend Eric down at Society Hill Loan which is a pawn shop down at 6th and South Street.

The place is a cluttered mess with boxes and amps everywhere. There are several guitars hanging from racks around the store and some of the better ones are in cases behind the counters. The place has been there for years and actually does brisk business on eBay. I spoke with Eric about what I was thinking about and how now that I’m older I was thinking about an old used Fender telecaster. Springsteen plays one and so does Keith Richards. It’s a versatile instrument and good for rhythm. I saw a few in the store but they were copies made by Jay Turser. He makes decent low-priced guitars, but I wasn’t feeling it. I also don’t know if I feel good enough to own or invest in an original guitar. I had to focus on my objective. A cheap electric guitar I could knock around on and play on a daily basis.

Eric said to me that I should shop around and when I put on a specific guitar I’ll just know that it’s the one. From one musician to another I think that was good advice. He told me to stop back in occasionally because they were always getting new stuff in.  There was always something about that pawn shop that made me sad. In the front windows, they had some old TVs and radios but mostly musical instruments. Just seeing those horns and guitars made me sad. Instead of seeing several guitars at rock-bottom prices I only saw the failed dreams of other musicians. I always imagined the guy who owned the guitar and for whatever reason had to pawn his instrument. The thing that he may have built his hopes and dreams on. The road of rock ‘n roll is littered with the detritus of millions of failed musicians, but seeing these artifacts held out for everyone to see knowing where they came from just made me sad. I was a failed musician/rockstar but I wasn’t broken up about it. I’ve had some lows in my life like we all have, but I never got so low that I ever wanted to part with my Ibanez Iceman. It had brought me so much joy and I had worked hard to acquire it, and I loved it so for what it did, I could never part with it.

So  I went about my business of working and writing and slowly thought about my next guitar. There was no rush. Weeks went by and sometimes on my walks on my days off I would stop in at the pawn shop and chat with Eric. He’s a cool dude who still plays in a band, but each time I went in there I didn’t see anything I liked. Probably because deep down I had no idea what I wanted or if I even needed another guitar.

My daughter said to me I never do anything for myself. I tell her it’s because I don’t want anything. I’ve had tons of material things in my life in the past and none of them made me happy. It seemed the more stuff I had the more responsibility and stress it brought with it. I think many people fill their lives with stuff in an attempt to fill a certain emptiness inside their hearts. Sadly material things like cars, jewelry, vacations, homes, and designer apparel all seem silly to me. I suppose it makes them feel affluent, successful, or more attractive to other people. But it’s just stuff. All of the greatest things and life can’t be bought. If you can purchase it… it must not have any real value because anybody with money can get it. Some of the greatest things in life can’t even be seen. They must be felt or experienced.

I’m so in tune with myself now that if I want something out of the ordinary I always ask myself why I need it and if I really need it. Am I depressed? Am I missing something? What’s wrong? Do I need to fill an emptiness inside myself? Obviously, that’s not the case with me because I rarely buy myself anything at all now, but that’s just how my brain works after living with the darkness of depression and the rollercoaster of anxiety my whole life.

But I’m fine now, and I think another guitar would be neat to have and play. Maybe give me a fresh start to kickstart my heart about music again. Not just playing music, but writing some new songs from my older more experienced self.

One of the guys at the store where I work is a musician and he’s the only person I’ve ever met that knows more about rock music than I do. That’s an incredible feat to me and I admire him for his musical ability and mental prowess on the subject. I think chatting with him at work and listening to all of the playlists he’s created for the store on Spotify has inspired me to return to my first love.

Last year I started my own Spotify account and I love making playlists, listening to all of my favorites, and discovering new music. It’s reignited my love for the art form.

I’m getting a guitar!

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You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

The Paragon – Chapter 3 – South Street Sounds

Two years ago I bought a little amplifier from a local music store. It was a Roland Cube. Just a little amp with a loud bark. It was only $100 but has plenty of power and all of the cool effects were built into it. Technology really has made some leaps in the last four decades. Electronics are smaller, faster, and better than ever.

The owner of South Street Sounds is a local musician who’s been in the industry for many years. He played and recorded in a band called Tall Trees. He’s got tons of gear crammed into the little store and it’s a bit cluttered. There’s so much musical stuff packed in there that there’s almost no room to sit down and try out an instrument. But he’s got a little bit of everything at reasonable prices.

In the basement, he has a complete recording studio and rehearsal space. He also gives guitar lessons and rents out the studio to musicians looking to record. He’ll run the board and mix the songs down for you. The Dead Milkmen have recorded there. When he’s not playing or fishing he’ll pick up gigs at local watering holes like Bob and Barbara’s or McGillan’s here in the city.

He’s been married to the same lady for around 25 years and they run the business together. His wife usually is behind the counter and operates the store on a daily basis. She’s a fit, pretty Asian lady with a peppery personality. She has a certain intensity in contrast to her husband’s laid-back, easy-going nature. Maybe that’s why it’s worked for so long. I’ve found that she’ll start talking about some subject or person that irritates her and then will become so intense, you actually feel like you’re the one in trouble with her!

I kind of dig her because she’s attractive and a little bit mean. I think this goes back to my Junior High days when I was hated by everyone. Being an ugly outcast, I was the object and target of my classmate’s scorn. Especially the girls. I think somehow in my formative years when girls were mean to me my subconscious at least enjoyed the attention even though it was negative. I think this may have manifested itself into me enjoying a woman who’s a little bit mean. I end up liking women who are a bit cruel in general. I don’t understand it but it’s definitely there in me.

I would stop in occasionally and chat with her but her corrosive personality compared to her very nice husband kept me away. That, and there was just no room in the small space to really check out their collection of guitars.

But I was still looking. I was thinking I may want a Fender Telecaster but still wasn’t sure. All I had was the little amp and my Iceman. But something was still missing. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but probably the fact that I wasn’t learning any new songs or writing and composing anything on my own. My energy was focused on the blog, but the itch to play again was getting stronger.

I would drag out the Iceman and jam on occasion but something was missing from the whole experience. I sold my Marshall amplifier years ago simply because it was just too big and too loud to play in my apartment in Rittenhouse. It would have melted the paint off the walls before I would be thrown out for violating local noise ordinances!

Something was coming but I didn’t know how or when. I would just keep thinking about music and ideas for songs and just let it develop naturally.

Continued next Tuesday…

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The Paragon – Chapter 2 – The Past

Back in 1978, I was the singer in a band called Renegade in Northeast Philly. The musicians were already playing together when I joined the band. It was a huge leap for me and was the beginning of my life as a musician. I’ve written about this time in my life and it’s all pretty well documented.

We played the song, Draw The Line by Aerosmith, and Gerry the guitarist asked that I learn and play the guitar part when he did an extended slide solo during the song. I leaped at the opportunity to play guitar so he brought in his old Silvertone to practice and showed me how to play the three notes I needed to play.

Larry, Mike, Chaz, and Jerry

I eventually acquired the guitar from him. He played a blonde post-CBS Fender Stratocaster. He needed money to buy a Valentine’s Day present for his girlfriend and he sold me his old Sears Silvertone for $15. He even threw in the amplifier that came with it. He was a great guitarist and had a cool Stage amp and a Univox Super Fuzz distortion pedal. The equipment he was using became the model of what I wanted to do musically even though I could barely play.

I found this pic on the internet and it is the exact model I owned into the early 80s.

Time went by and I continued to practice every day. Learning the notes on the fretboard and pouring through my sister’s old piano songbooks to learn songs. I would forgo going out to stay in and practice my instrument. My main focus was to learn the basics and then start writing songs. I wrote my first song called Get Lost on that guitar. I had only been playing the guitar for a couple of months. I always had a good ear and a sense of music in my head. I loved rock music since I was a kid, and leaned more toward the harder acts like Steppenwolf rather than The Beatles. I really dug hard-hitting powerful guitar sounds. The heavier the better.

Let’s jump to 1980 and I’m living in Wildwood, New Jersey with my family. My dad had decided that once my older sister went off to college, we’d leave Philly and live at the seashore. Wildwood back then was an absolute wonderland in the summertime. But in the winter it became a desolate awful place for kids and teens to live. There is absolutely nothing to do. It’s a resort/retirement town and only exists because of its location, free beaches, and a boardwalk full of amusement rides.

But I survived the winter and actually thrived when I met a kid who played guitar. We started jamming and later joined a few other guys to form the Union Jacks. My buddy said I probably needed to buy a “real guitar” if I was going to be taking music seriously. I thought this was a great idea and started looking through magazines to see what my favorite guitar heroes were playing.

The one instrument that really struck me as the guitar that was right for me was the Ibanez Iceman. It had to be black and would represent the cool heavy metal/glam image and persona I wanted. I guess once I learned how to play guitar and write songs I didn’t really focus on being a great musician. I just wanted to write good catchy songs and be a rockstar. I remember reading once that the artist, Sting once said, “I saw the Beatles and I wanted to be in a band. I saw Jimi Hendrix and I wanted to be a musician.”

You can read about my whole music saga in my upcoming book, Down The Shore: Stories from my summers in Wildwood, NJ

But for this story, you can click on the link below to get the backstory of this musical instrument.

The Ibanez Iceman

When I saw the film Hard Day’s Night I wanted to be a rockstar. A cool job playing rock music and being hounded by throngs of girls wherever I went. So I always liked being in a band but my focus was on becoming a famous rockstar on my songwriting merits. I figured I could always get other musicians to bring my poetic and musical vision to life with their musical prowess.

So now I had the Iceman and I loved it. I referred to it in the feminine sense like men name their boats female names. It’s a term of endearment. Even though the Iceman had the word MAN in the name, and had sharp edges, an angular body, a hook, and what looked like a stinger I still regarded the instrument as female. She was beautiful and loyal and brought me hours of joy. She was far better than most people I knew. But the instrument still had a very heavy metal masculine image to it. Look at the photo. That’s a metal guitar. You don’t come out onstage with a black Iceman and a Marshall amp behind you and play ballads. You crank hard rock and metal at a loud volume.

I remember seeing a picture of a guitarist playing guitar in a music magazine and he had a black guitar strap with a white lightning bolt on it. I had to get one of those to complete my look. I had the cool Iceman, but my strap was plain black leather and I put neat buttons on it. Buttons were popular back then and my guitar strap was covered in buttons. Buttons with images and words like, I want complete control, I want it all, a picture of Alex from Clockwork Orange, a photo of Farrah Fawcett, etc. Just stuff I liked and thought was cool at the time.

But I wanted that lightning bolt strap to complete my rockstar look. But couldn’t find one anywhere. It was 1979, and I lived in a ghost town so music choices were limited. There was a TV repair shop owned by a guy who had a few guitars and gave lessons, a music store called Back to Earth, and a place called Gilday’s up in Pleasantville. Not much else. It was even difficult to find good music down the shore. All they had was one crappy radio station broadcast out of Atlantic City and if you wanted a cassette by a specific band the store had to special order it for you. I was probably the first person on the island that owned Def Leppard’s first album, On Through The Night, and Some older Judas Priest albums because there was just no call for any of that music where I lived. When I think about how sparse and talentless the population was in Wildwood in the wintertime I’m surprised to this day that we all actually came together and created a viable rock band.

I spoke to my father about the black strap with the lightning bolt and he said he’d see what he could do. He had always come through for all of us on anything we wanted when it came to Christmas, so why not ask Santa himself to procure this elusive item for me? He was great at locating things and bringing them home. I was sure he’d find one for me.

But as time went by, he came to me and said he wasn’t able to find the strap I was looking for. Was it a custom item that the guy I saw wearing it had specially made for him? Maybe. I eventually let it go and continued to play wearing my plain leather one covered in buttons.

The Ibanez Iceman had taken the place of the Sears Silvertone. The guitar that I learned to play and started my songwriting journey on. The guitar looked like a slender Stratocaster, but once you got close to it or held it realized it was one level above being a toy for a child. But it was a great guitar to learn on and it meant a lot to me.

But it eventually started to have electrical problems and spent more time in the closet because it had been replaced by my new girlfriend. My best girl. My beautiful powerful black Iceman. I had a tendency to do that with women back then too. I would have a girl I liked and I would spend time with her. Let’s use Anne as an example. Anne was my little girlfriend at the end of the summer. That lasted into the winter and she would come down and visit with her mom during the winter and we would hang out. I was 17 and she was 14. But I was immature and she was the perfect girlfriend for me. But once I was enrolled in Wildwood High and playing in a new band, I started dating a local girl. She was tall and blonde and I was digging her. New and shiny like the Iceman. Anne slowly became the Silvertone. I thought less about her and enjoyed my time with the girl who was new. I was fickle even back then. I didn’t even feel bad when I dumped Anne to be with the new girl. Anne was a better match than the new girl, but I wanted what I wanted. As the song says, “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.” The new girl won out because she was available. But because of who I was at the time, once the summer of 1980 broke, I cut them both loose to enjoy all the fresh tourist girls who would arrive in droves each week on vacation.

That was 40 years ago and none of it matters now, but I noticed some interesting parallels in my life lately. The Ibanez Iceman is the only guitar I’ve purchased in the last 40 years. I thought about getting a Gibson Explorer as a second guitar back then, but they were expensive. I had the Iceman and that was enough. I could only play one guitar at a time anyway. The Gibson Explorer would have been a vanity purchase not because of how well it played but because it looked cool. Pretty much why I wanted the Iceman. It looked cool. My decision to spend all of my busboy earnings on a $500 guitar back in 1979 was simply because it looked cool. I wasn’t about the ease of play or tone. I got it because it looked sharp and I had never even played it before I bought it. I just wanted that look. Pretty superficial and shallow thinking. But I’ve always been that way. I’ve put up with so much from so many women because they were beautiful. I was always very forgiving of beauty, mistaking it for sophistication and kindness. When normally beauty is the opposite.

But lately, I’ve been thinking about getting another guitar. Just something simple, inexpensive, and functional. I don’t want to have to drag the Iceman (which is now a valuable collectible antique) out from its case underneath my bed, get it hooked up, and jam. I’d rather just write.

I had spoken to a musician who worked as a delivery driver at the last restaurant where I worked four years ago. He said he would buy blank guitar bodies and necks and build guitars himself. He’s a really talented guitarist but I think it’s more of a pet project than something he was thinking about turning into a business. We chatted about it on a few occasions but nothing ever came out of it.

To be continued next week…

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. 

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The Paragon

What better time than Valentine’s Day to write this love note…

Initially, I wanted to call this post, About A Girl, but decided against it.

I remember I always liked you and others like you. I didn’t know anything about any of you, but there was always an attraction. Especially when you were the focal point. You became very popular in my youth. I always watched from afar as you and the others were in the spotlight. 

I always wanted to become better acquainted and learn more about you. But I never was allowed the opportunity. But still, I yearned for years to meet you. I liked you the best because you were so unique. You could do what all the others could do, but you always looked better doing it.

Alas, you were always in the arms of another man.

When I was around 16 I met one like you. I was introduced by a friend. But it just wasn’t the same. However, I was just happy to be learning more about you. Like the song says: “If you can’t be with the one you love. Love the one you’re with.”

It was a learning experience for me. I tried my best to gather as much information about you and those like you. I knew if I could be better I’d somehow win your heart. But I figured I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.

I was happy for a while, but there was still that yearning in my heart. You always want the thing you can’t have. It sounds nuts, but it just makes you want it more. 

A few years passed, and things were getting better for me in my relationship with the other, but it just wasn’t you. It wasn’t tearing at my heart or anything, but you were always there. No point to string it along.

I got very busy in my teenage years just growing up and exploring life. I worked through the summer and had a good time at the seashore. I started hanging out with a more experienced group of people and I felt that if I wanted to fit in and tune into my own identity, things needed to change.

So I spoke to an older guy I knew from the community and explained my plight. He was good at fixing things. I suppose you could call him, a machine head. He told me he knew how I could finally meet you. I listened intently and being the wiser man with more experience, I followed his advice. It was time to make a switch.

I’ll never forget the night you finally came down from New York. I’d seen photos of you, and you always seemed to be living such an incredible life. Usually held in the passionate embrace of some rockstar.

But here you were. I went nuts for you.

Even on the walk home together to introduce you to my family, I had to stop and look at you. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

I took you in my arms and told you I’d never let you go. I was surprised at how willing you were to join me on my journey. I had worked so hard on my own to be better, and I felt that I had earned the right to hold you in my arms.

There were others like you. But you were mine, and I loved you for that. When I introduced you to my friends they actually seemed surprised that I could win such a prize as you. But I knew in my heart I had earned the right to be with you. I worked hard on myself and with other people to have you in my life.

I felt so much cooler just having you by my side. Especially when we went out together. That was always a blast. I was surrounded by beauty, but you never got jealous. You knew we were in tune with each other. You knew I wouldn’t bolt, I’d always come home to you.

You were so good to me. The afternoons in my room communicating with each other for hours. You really brought out the best in me. I don’t know if you could say the same, but I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. But you seemed like you enjoyed it. You always went along with whatever I wanted without protest. 

I mean, sometimes I was a little sensitive to your feedback, but for the most part, you were always sweet to me. I appreciated your input.

Don’t fret. I love you unconditionally and promised to never leave you.

I’d seen others like you, and some even better discarded by others or broken, and I promised I would never let that happen to you.

We had some of the best times of my life together back then. I’ll never forget them, or you. You were always so loyal. You always stayed by my side even after the party was long over. You never took from me. Only gave. All I needed to do was take good care of you and protect you. And I did fiercely. 

There were times another man would ask to dance with you. Even just for a minute. But the answer was always no. Find your own, I would say.

But time passes and life changes. I always loved you but things started to get in the way. Adult things like work and family. But I never neglected you. I know we couldn’t always be together doing the things we enjoyed most in the past, but you were always near. The distant sound of your voice was always with me.

You were never sad. But if I was sad you’d reflect that through your voice and somehow make it beautiful. You said it was a minor thing but it meant a lot to me. You were always a major influence in my life growing up. 

Even when I was away from you I was thinking about you. The more we were apart the more I missed you.

I remember I came home one night and found someone had broken into my house. The only thing I cared about was that you were okay. You were fine. They never knew you were there.

I’ve loved a lot in this life. People have come and gone. I’ve had a great time, but you were always there. I could write volumes about you.

I know as time has passed you’ve become more desirable. So many people want you, or something like you. But you can’t put a price on your pretty head. You’re priceless to me. I know initially, I loved you because you were sexy and cool. But like all great relationships they grow and the things that mean more come forth. What you gave to me and helped bring out in me are some of my greatest moments.

You never cheated on me or ever betrayed me. I wasn’t as loyal to you as you were to me, but I needed to take care of other things in my life that mattered at the time. But I never forgot about you.

You always fed my creative spirit all the while making me look good. But you always let the light shine on me. As lovely as you are you simply reflect your beauty onto me. I’ll never forget you for that. 

I’m growing older. We’ve been together for over 40 years now. We’re aging as time goes by each year. My hairline recedes and my waistline expands, but you remain as sexy as ever.  

You’ve always retained your lovely figure and lovely tone of voice after all these years. I know I did the right thing by keeping you in my life and taking good care of you. You look just as gorgeous as the day I brought you home for the first time back in 1979.

I no longer have the speed and agility I once had in my youth but you’re always ready to get up and go whenever I want. I can always rely on you. You never made me sad. Not one day in my life was I ever sad if you were in my arms.

Just to hold you is magic.

Just to be together alone with you. Our own private conversations. Those moments belong only to us.

It’s been a while, but lately, I’ve had more free time and I’d like us to have fun together again. I know it’s been too long, but you’ve always been so patient with me. I can’t say that you miss me, because maybe you too needed the rest. But you never minded sitting by and waiting for me to come back to you. 

It’s been too long. I want to hold you in my arms again. I love you, and I always will.

I’d love to dance and sing with you again.

Not the wild days and nights of our past, but in homage to what we can do when we’re together.

I want to hold you gently in my arms again and caress your lovely neck.

Think of these words as my first love song to you, dear. 

1980 – 17 yrs old – Morey’s Pier, Wildwood, NJ

2013 – 50 yrs old – Philadelphia, Pa

2023 – 60 yrs old – Philadelphia, Pa

Thank you for 43 years of joy, Ibanez

A paragon means someone or something that is the very best. The English noun paragon comes from the Italian word paragone, which is a touchstone, a black stone that is used to tell the quality of gold. You rub the gold on the touchstone and you can find out how good the gold is.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ibanez_Iceman

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You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Tales of Rock – Who’s Opening For Iron Butterfly?

Philadelphia, PA – the Late 60s

I remember as kids we’d sometimes hang out in the basement with my dad in the evening after dinner. He would teach us to read and also read the entire book, The Hobbit to us. It was amazing. We’d sit on the carpet in our sweaters and he’d read it with feeling and do all the voices. I envisioned Bilbo and Frodo and the ring.

I remember him telling me, “you can’t hide behind a ring.”

Learning to read and being exposed to the arts and literature at a young age put us far ahead of our peers in school. The fundamentals I learned have carried me through my life.

Of course, there was music. My parents loved music. My mom listened to Andy Williams while she was ironing upstairs and my dad would be listening to classical music, The Who, and opera in the basement.

The first time I ever heard The Beatles, (Meet The Beatles and Hard Days Night, come to mind) The Who’s, Tommy, Steppenwolf, and Jimi Hendrix, from the soundtrack of the film, Easy Rider,  David Clayton Thomas, Frank Sinatra, and Iron Butterfly all happened in our basement at our house in Lawndale.

My dad had some younger friends he’d met through the bank where he worked. They turned him on to some great music and also marijuana.

Iron Butterfly was from California and was a psychedelic rock band. Their most memorable song is In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. I loved listening to that song! 17 minutes of rock! I loved how it began as a traditional rock song and then went into two great guitar solos by a then-17-year-old, Erik Brann. Doug Ingle was the keyboard player and singer, Ron Bushy on drums, and Lee Dorman on bass. The song would then settle into a dark keyboard piece and then a cool drum solo. (Who didn’t bang that solo out on their desk in school as a kid?)

I also liked the 5 songs on the other side of the record. Especially, Most Anything That You Want, and Flowers and Beads. I would sit on one of the barstools and read all the liner notes on the back of the record jacket while listening. They were such a great band. I still listen to their songs today on YouTube and Spotify.

Iron Butterfly never really made it that big nationally or globally after that. But I think they were a major influence on many hard rock bands of the era. I think they would have sustained their career a bit longer had it not been for the arrival of a new band on the scene.

Iron Butterfly was headlining a show in California. A couple of little know acts opened the show and then the warm-up act came on to do their set before the headliner, Iron Butterfly.

The warm-up act went onstage and sonically burned down the stage. No one had ever seen anything like it. They were a blues-influenced rock band from England that supercharged the genre. The crowd went wild over the sound of this new band. The sheer ferocity of the music was overwhelming. The caterwauling by the flaxen-haired singer, the blistering solos of the guitarist and the rumble and thunder of the bass player, and the bombastic power of the drummer blew the audience away.

This band wasn’t psychedelic. They were feral.

Doug Ingle from Iron Butterfly stood backstage watching this band apply their craft to the frenzied crowd. He spoke with one of his friends about what was happening.

“My god. They’re incredible. We sound tame compared to them. How can we even go on after that set?”

“They’re an amazing band for sure.”

“Who the hell are those guys?”

“They’re the New Yardbirds. They call themselves… Led Zeppelin.”

And that was the beginning of the end for Iron Butterfly.

Jimmy Page had been known to be a thief in his early days in music. The story of their name goes back to a conversation someone was having with The Who’s drummer, Keith Moon. He said that Jimmy Page’s New Yardbirds would probably take off like a lead balloon.  Jimmy heard about this and decided to name his band Led Zeppelin,  with the word “Lead” spelled Led, so that stupid Americans wouldn’t pronounce it as “lead with a long E”. He liked the name because he wanted his band to be heavy but also light at the same time regarding their sound.

But I think he stole the idea for the name Led Zeppelin from Iron Butterfly. If you look at the liner notes on the back of Iron Butterfly’s record you’ll see that right at the beginning they break down what the name of their band means.

Iron – Symbolic of something “heavy” as in sound.

Butterfly – Light, appealing and versatile. An object that can be used freely in imagination.

I always liked when my father said it. “Iron Butterfly.” 

At this moment I can hear the tone in his words. The exact sound of his voice. He sort of held the word butterfly as if he had caught that beauty in his net.

Then he’d put the record on and I’d live the next 17 minutes enthralled as I spun on the chair in our basement in Lawndale. The sound of eerie keyboards and growling guitars, tribal beats, pterodactyls, and psychedelic energy poured forth from the Columbia speakers on the windowsill and mantle.

I thought… I’d love to make that. If I ever learn how to play guitar, that’s the kind of music I want to make. The Beatles are nice and all, but this just feels different. Like it’s calling me to step into the Garden of Eden.

We’ve all heard the stories of Jimmy Page blatantly stealing from other artists early in his rock career. They opened for a band called Spirit. There are claims Jimmy stole the riff from one of their songs to create Stairway to Heaven. There have been lawsuits about this.

Jimmy was determined to build the perfect hard rock band. But I don’t think the Kieth Moon story is the real origin of the name. I think Jimmy simply stole the idea and made a variation of it for his band.

Look at the name Def Leppard. That’s an obvious nod to Zeppelin. Thieves or not, I love all of these bands, and rock n roll is one of the greatest bastards in music. They’ve all been influenced and stolen from each other. This has happened in every sector of music in the world.

Besides… It’s only Rock n’ Roll.

I guess I always liked when my dad said the words, “Iron Butterfly”… because now I realize he was describing me.

On a final note… “Led Zeppelin is clearly the better band. But Iron Butterly is a way cooler name for a band than Led Zeppelin.” – Chaz

My Wildwood book is coming out this summer! Stay tuned!!

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Last Exit for the Lost

Sarah Louise DeVos was born February 12, 1976, in Cape May Court House, New Jersey, to William and Sandra DeVos. She leaves behind her parents, sister (Sharon), brother (Mark), two nephews (Isaiah and Rashon), two great-nieces (Ariana and Makenna), as well as aunts, uncles, cousins, and the many friend’s children who also considered her their Auntie Sarah. She also leaves behind an eclectic group of friends and acquaintances from around the globe who loved and adored her for the beautiful, creative, compassionate, stylish, and loving person she was.  

Sarah was raised in both Cape May and Carlisle, PA. After graduating from Carlisle High School in 1994, she moved to Philadelphia. She self-funded her education at Moore College of Art and Design, obtained a degree in graphic design, and made lifelong friends. During college, Sarah worked as a valet for the Rittenhouse Hotel, which was an ideal position for someone who loved stylish cars. She also worked at Shampoo during college, one of the most well-known nightclubs in Philly during the 90s, which allowed her to enjoy many things she loved – fashion, music, and people.  

Sarah took her degree and talents to every agency she worked for, most recently Free People in Philadelphia. She also took on many freelance gigs throughout her career, during which she created some award-winning chalkboard illustrations for friends’ weddings, and special events, and logos for businesses. She also displayed her artwork in Old City on First Fridays.

In addition to being a talented artist, Sarah loved music and fashion. She could easily dance all night in three-inch heels and often sent her friends CD mixes of some of her favorite songs. When other people saw clutter at a discount clothing store, Sarah saw an opportunity. She could create the most unique and stylish outfits from any discount clothing store.

Sarah also loved meeting people, hearing their stories, and talking with them about their adventures.  She used those skills throughout her life, including visits to Paris, Italy, Prague, London, Mexico, and throughout the US with friends.  

Sarah loved taking walks and looking at architecture.  If you ever spent time with her in her beloved Philly, she would share all this passion with you. She was observant and would point out all the details in the ornately decorated buildings as you walked past. And she usually had a story about all of them because she had no qualms about walking up to someone outside of these buildings and asking to tour them. Most of the time, people obliged her whims, happy to share their places with her appreciative eyes. 

She never owned a car during her time in Philadelphia but mastered the public transit system like she’d been riding it her whole life. Also, you would see her gracefully navigating through the heavy Philadelphia traffic on rollerblades or a bike like it was an Olympic sport.  

From her childhood friends to those she made at Moore College of Art and Design, to the strangers she turned into friendships, and all of the furry creatures she loved, everyone she met would be forever changed by her presence. She will be missed dearly by all that knew her.

Service will be held at Daybreak Church, 321 Gettysburg Pike, Mechanicsburg, PA, on Thursday, December 1, 2022, at 11:00am.  Visitation will be held for an hour prior to, at 10:00am.  There will be space available at the church if people would like to stay afterward and share further remembrances.  

Sarah’s portfolio can be viewed at http://www.thedutchfox.com 

To honor Sarah’s spirit, the family asks that you reach out to the person you love who needs to know they are loved.  All donations in her name came to be made to https://nami.org/Home,  https://www.furryfriendsnetwork.org/donate/,  or any other organization that contributes to the arts, mental health, or animal rescues. 

Arrangements are being handled by Hollinger Funeral Home & Crematory, Inc., Mt. Holly Springs. Visit www.HollingerFuneralHome.com to offer condolences to the family.

Please visit our flower store to plant memorial trees or send flowers to the family in memory of Sarah DeVos.

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If you know anyone struggling, down, or feeling sad… give them a call. Or better yet, go see them. Check on them. See if they’re okay. If you are feeling like you can no longer cope in this life, help is available 24 hours a day.

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California Dreamin’ – VIDEON

Santa Monica, CA – 1983

I always loved music and films, so at some point, I decided that working in a music store would be better than working at a restaurant. I applied at several around Los Angeles and got an interview with a chain called Music Plus. They sold albums, tapes, videos, and concert tickets. I remember acquiring tickets to see David Bowie on his Serious Moonlight tour from there! But that’s another story.

Here’s another author’s memories in regard to Music Plus:

https://www.championnewspapers.com/opinion_and_commentary/chino_memories/article_4d1201f6-23d7-11e8-88aa-9faa52530da0.html

They liked me well enough but told me they didn’t have anything available in their music stores. But they were opening a flagship video store on Lincoln Blvd. in Santa Monica.

I knew that VHS and Beta were emerging in the home video market and thought it would be a cool job. Music Plus was a retail chain around LA, and since video was growing they decided to designate a whole store to just videotape sales and rentals.

It was a great idea at the time and the owner was truly a visionary for coming up with the idea. (We all know what happened in the coming years with the arrival of Blockbuster, but this was at the very beginning of the home video craze.)

VCR’s cost over $1500 back then and were the size of old electric typewriters. They weighed a ton and I think Beta was the only format in the beginning. Sony invented Beta and VHS but Beta was the better format. More compact with a simpler mechanism with better sound and video. They sold off the rights to VHS because it was inferior. But more companies bought it up and started making VHS VCRs like crazy. VHS ultimately won out in the format wars simply because more companies manufactured the machines and they were more available to the public. Funny, how the superior format failed to the inferior one simply based on availability. Man-made selection at its best!

I was 20 years old and just happy to not be working in a hot, sweaty kitchen in a bar and grill until midnight every day. This was a cool, clean job in a new industry.

The day manager was this super French guy who was easily well into his forties. He knew a lot about film and especially foreign films so that was cool. In the evenings they had another manager named Renee who was probably around twenty-five. She was short with brown hair and eyes. Kind of cute, but that was ruined by her bitchy personality. She seemed over her head in the position and was always short-tempered and stressed. She was always scheduling me to close with her because she liked me. Even though she was cranky a lot of the time, I knew she dug me. She would always ask me to smoke a joint with her out in the parking lot after work. I obliged because I figured maybe she’d be nicer if I hung out with her.

One night that parking lot smoke turned into a bit more and we ended up back at her place. I was young and didn’t possess the moral compass I have today. (Come on… who am I kidding? You’ve read this blog.)

There was one other girl who worked there most days with me, who was the quintessential 80s girl. (Think one of the members of the band The Go Gos) She was after me as well. Where were all the available men in LA back then? Nothing ever happened between us because I just wasn’t that into her. She seemed weird.

We had a good time working there and it was fun being around all of those movies all day. I learned a lot about film and the video industry working there. The whole store was arranged by studio, not by subject. So we had a section for Warner, Paramount, Twentieth Century Fox, etc.

The best part was, at lunch you could go in the back and watch a video while dining on your sandwich.

But here’s the interesting part. This was a legit spin-off from a big music store chain. Everything was above board. For the most part.

You won’t believe what the home video experience cost back then. It was a fledgling industry and everything was new, so that means expensive. The machines were a fortune, and the tapes were really pricey as well. Most videotape movies started at $59.95 to purchase. But we did have a rental program. It was $100 to join and to rent a movie it was over $20 and you had to leave a huge deposit on your credit card every time you rented some movies. Isn’t that crazy? It was like renting an automobile!

I remember when Raiders of the Lost Ark came out on videotape. It had made so much money worldwide, they released it for $39.95 on VHS and Beta. This was unheard of. A groundbreaking low price for a blockbuster film.

Next was the making of Michael Jackson’s Thriller video and the music video all in one tape. That was released for only $29.95. The lowest price ever offered for a home videotape ever. We sold the hell out of them.

There were NO Disney titles of any kind on VHS and Beta. I think they were waiting to see what the NEW format would do for their stockholders. (Now they own everything!)

We didn’t have hundreds of copies of popular movies back then. Most of the films available were from the past. So everything in the store was from the 70s and back. New movies were in the theaters and it would be years until they landed on video. But there were plenty of great films to watch. But the only place I could check out titles was during lunch in the back.

But here’s the twist to this upstanding business called VIDEON. We sold the occasional tape to some wealthy people who wanted to own some quality films to show their friends and family.

Home video was in its infancy and it was like the wild west back then. Here’s what they did at VIDEON. Say, someone rents a few films. They watch them and return them after the 3 day allocated time. We take that tape in the back room. There is a table with a spool of shrinkable cellophane on a roll and an industrial blow dryer. We rewind the tape and rewrap it in our own little shrink wrap. We sear the creases on the spool so it seals the wrap. We then hit it with the blow dryer and that shrinks the wrap so that it clings to the original box with the tape in it. Does it look brand new? Does it look like it came from the factory? No. But do the customers know that? No.

So basically they were renting movies all the time and then repackaging them and selling them as new to unsuspecting customers. I wasn’t comfortable with this practice because it just didn’t seem right. People were tricked into thinking they were buying something brand new and paying the top retail price. But in actuality were being sold a used product. That smells like fraud to me. It had to be illegal. But like I said, back then it was the wild west. I was getting a paycheck every week so I never said anything about their diabolical criminal enterprise.

The way to tell was, I knew what the rewrapped shrink wrap looked like, and if you looked through the window on the tape, the tape on the spool was slightly uneven. When they’re new, this is not the case.

I don’t know what happened to that company, but I’m sure they were devoured by Blockbuster some years later. (It was the last job I had before leaving California)

It’s funny how when something’s new, it costs a fortune and feels so exclusive. But in a few years, it’s all cheap and available to everyone. Now, it’s all gone. You can simply stream everything. DVDs aren’t even a thing anymore.

But it was a fun job and a peek at was to come in the world of home video in the future.

I recommend you watch the documentary The Last Blockbuster on Netflix. Very interesting. The best bits are about the business and corporate end of that industry. The rest is just a bunch of self-absorbed clowns talking about their love for Blockbuster and home video.

But I will say this one last thing. I do have some wonderful memories of picking up my little daughter on a Friday night and heading over to the local Blockbuster. We’d pick out some movies, popcorn, and candy for the weekend. It was a fun ritual that just about everyone I know once did together.

Check out my latest book on Amazon!

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You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Type. Tune. Tint. – LAWNDALE Podcast with Tom Kranz

A few weeks ago, I got an email from a gentleman I didn’t know. His name is Tom Kranz, and he’s an author and has his own podcast called Type. Tune. Tint. He asked me if I would be a guest on his show, and of course I agreed!

We talked about my latest book, LAWNDALE and how we’re from the same part of the city and some of our collective history. It was a great experience and I’m really grateful that Tom reached out to me.

I decided that I should share it with you all and hope you enjoy listening to this short piece as much as I did making it with Tom. It’s entitled: Creativity Born in a Philadelphia Row home.

Enjoy!

You can listen to it here:

Here’s the link too:

https://www.buzzsprout.com/1208186/11295399

Here’s some more links to Tom’s work. He’s an accomplished author in his own right! Below is a link to his blog where he talks about LAWNDALE and the process.

Tom’s blog. He wrote a really nice post about me and my creative life. Check it out!

Thank you, Tom!

I’m super excited about being on his podcast and I hope you all enjoy it. I owe this fellow Philadelphian and neighbor a drink the next time he’s in center city!

If you’re one of the few who hasn’t gotten your copy of LAWNDALE, you can order it below.

Thanks once again to everyone who bought my book!

You can check out all of my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every week.

Star Wars Is Cool Again

Star Wars has always been a love of mine. Since it came out in 1977, I’ve been a fan. It was such a huge part of my teenage life just like the band, Aerosmith. We loved Star Wars and everything about the whole mythology for years. But then something occurred in the 90s. George Lucas decided to produce the prequels. If you’re a fan you know how badly that went.

Then there were the sequels in the last few years. Not as bad as the prequels but they just felt like a nostalgic retread to please all the Star Wars fanboys. Just updated versions of the original gems. Sad knock offs for any true fan of the original trilogy.

But a couple of years ago something wonderful happened. They made Rogue One which is a new prequel to the events leading up to the 1977 original, A New Hope. It was a really good and unique story. I liked it and so did my friends. But the sequels were still happening and they just didn’t feel right.

Then they came out with the series The Mandalorian. I watched it and LOVED it. It looked and felt like the original Star Wars from my youth. That’s pretty hard to do, but it’s been done. This is how it all should have gone down after Return of the Jedi, but didn’t. But now here we are exploring these new characters and it has the look and feel of the classic originals. I’m very pleased.

Then last year they came out with the Book of Boba Fett. I didn’t know how that was going to be but my fingers were crossed. I LOVED that too!

I think after 20 years the guys who were teenagers like me when we first encountered Star Wars are now making the new movies and shows. If that’s what it took, then so be it. I’m happy and it’s nice to see that there’s a group of artists that know what they’re doing and are expanding the Star Wars universe the right way.

So to my friends and me there really are only a few true Star Wars projects:

Rogue One – A New Hope – The Empire Strikes Back – Return of the Jedi – The Mandalorian – The Book of Boba Fett.

That’s it so far. If there is anything else after Boba then I haven’t seen it yet at the time of this writing. But we’re headed in the right direction and I think the true fans will agree!

Thank you, Jon Favreau!!!!

Update: The next Star Wars show that is coming out will be on Disney+ and is called Andor, dropping on September 21st. So… YAY!

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