California Dreamin’- DuBrow

Santa Monica, CA – 1982

My buddy Frank and I were having the time of our lives living out in LA. We both worked but obviously at such a young age, (me 19, and Frank, 21) we didn’t make much money. But when we had a little extra cash we’d head out to a bar or nightclub to mix and mingle with the locals.

One of our favorite spots was right in our own neighborhood. Madam Wong’s West. Esther Wong was a famous venue owner and music promoter in LA. She had a spot in Chinatown and another one in Santa Monica.

We had some great success on our first excursion out to that club when we met and bedded the Yamamato sisters. We were still sort of dating them both but still enjoyed the LA nightlife and all the deviltry it had to offer.

One night we were sitting in a booth sipping our beers and checking out some of the local bands that were playing there. The main band that was playing upstairs wasn’t all that notable. They were a hard rock act called Dubrow which I thought was a horrible name for a band.

I later learned that they were called something else but gave up the name after their spectacular guitarist quit the band to go work for a more well-known musician.

Years later I discovered that the guy who was the singer in the band we saw that night at Madam Wong’s was named Kevin Dubrow, hence the name of the band. Seems a bit egotistical based on how he appeared marginally talented as a singer and frontman. I also found out that the former name of that band when their extraordinary guitarist was in it was Quiet Riot.

The news about how this guitarist was now playing in Ozzy Osborne’s band was a much talked about subject. Randy Rhoads was always called “former guitarist for Quiet Riot.” So the singer, Kevin Dubrow decided to capitalize on this information and changed the name of his band back to Quiet Riot. It was fun finding all of this information out later and knowing I saw them when they were just a bar band that nobody cared about back in 1982.

They did okay after changing their name back to Quiet Riot.

Sadly, Kevin passed away at age 52 from an overdose of alcohol and painkillers. I’m glad I didn’t follow the same rock and roll path and end up with a similar fate.

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

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

Tales of Rock – The Last Great Stones Song

Back in the late 80s, Kieth Richards was again on the outs with his bandmate, Mick Jagger. He decided to put out his own album. Although Keith isn’t the best singer, the album, entitled Talk Is Cheap was great. It came out in 1988. Once you adjust your mind to Keith’s voice, the record is great. Every song on the album is great and the musicians he plays with are terrific. It was the best “Stones/Not the Rolling Stones” album in a decade. I went to see him play with his band, The X-pensive Winos live at the Tower Theater in Philadelphia, with my friend Jim and it was amazing.

But by 1989 Keith was back with the Stones and they put out an album called Steel Wheels. It was mediocre at best, but I really liked one of the songs on the record. It was the track, Mixed Emotions.

But there was something familiar about it. It sort of had a vibe from the song Take It So Hard from Keith’s album. I liked them both equally, but I always felt like they somehow lifted the melody from Take It So Hard and wove it into the new song, Mixed Emotions.

Listen to both of them back to back. Tell me in the comments if you think I’m wrong.

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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 9 – Lightning Strikes

I couldn’t stop thinking about the Eko guitar over the weekend. That’s a good sign. I’ve got the feeling. I just hope it’s real and I do what I planned to do with my music going forward.

It was time to prepare for the arrival of her imminence. I went on Amazon and looked up a few items. I wanted to get a few things in preparation for her arrival so it would be a seamless transition from the store to my house. I wasn’t only thinking about the Eko I needed to take care of the Iceman too.

I figured if I had finally decided to cheat on my wife, (the Iceman) I should at least get her a nice gift to say I’m sorry and haven’t forgotten about her. Maybe some special little gifts to let her know that she’s still my number one and I’m just taking up with this younger woman for laughs.

First I ordered this.

I bolted the wall hanger to a support post in my room. If I was going to get this new cute guitar I didn’t want her hidden from sight in a case under my bed or in my closet. She should be displayed in clear sight so I can show her off and her beauty can be admired on a daily basis. Having her there on display will remind me that I need to play her on a regular basis. It’ll be easy to take her from her spot on the hook and make music with her.

Next, were these custom guitar picks.

I found a place that makes custom guitar picks online. I wanted them to be black of course and have my name on them. I even got to choose the font. Do you know what that font is called? Rock Salt. Seems fitting for a rocker. If I had access to stuff like this 40 years ago when I was in a band I would have ordered 100 of them. I would have been tossing them out to girls at every show!

I also found something else online, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

The day arrived. 2/22/22. Today was the day I went to pick up my new little girlfriend. Having made all of the proper preparations and mounting the hook to the post in my room to display her, I was ready.

I went over to South Street Sounds and chatted with the owner’s wife. Her husband was in and out but was busy with some other clients. I didn’t care. I was there to do business regardless of who was present. I told the nice lady what I was there to do and she obliged. She carefully wrapped up my new guitar and I paid her.

I gently carried her home under an overcast sky that threatened to rain. But I willed it away to protect my new girl until I got her safely home. My daughter was home but didn’t see what I carried in.

I unwrapped the guitar from her package and placed her in her rightful place in my room. The funny thing was, I didn’t want to play her right away. I wanted to wait until my daughter left to visit her boyfriend in New Jersey for the weekend. I find that I want things more when I deny myself. If I love something now, I don’t devour it immediately like I did in the past. I wait. I wait for the right moment when everything’s perfect. (seems a little nuts but it works for me in all aspects of my life) I love having things to look forward to as part of my life now. It’s so important to have little things to constantly look forward to. Without that, life can become boring for some people. If I do everything in moderation, I’ll enjoy it more and for a longer period of time.

It’s a good way to live a happy life.

If you’ve got your health, some good people around you, something to do every day, to love and be loved, and something to look forward to… you’re all set.

I let the Iceman go first out of respect.

Such a beautiful faithful wife. Elegant and powerful. Her sharp lines, and double humbucker pickups. She’s not a lady to be trifled with onstage.

Now, my new girl…

My concubine. My new younger mistress. She’s light, fast, and cute. She’s got a whole different feel in my hands than my Iceman. I want to write some new songs on her this year.

But I’ll never forget my first love. The 1979 Ibanez Iceman. The guitar made me who I was back in the day. Out of respect and a little guilt, I felt I had to do something for her for bringing me so much joy for so many years.

So I got her a little present that she always deserved…

Do you see it?

The black leather strap with the white lightning bolt on it! She deserves the best and has waited patiently for it for so many years.

So if I’m going to cheat on her with my new mistress, I think she deserves a nice gift to let her know, she was always… and will always be, my number one.

The Paragon.

I appreciate everyone who read all of these chapters and went on this journey with me. There’ll be more original content on the way soon!

I’ve been teaching myself how to play a little lead guitar in the last few months and it’s coming along!

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

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

If you liked my last book, Lawndale, then you’ll love my next book!

Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water…

Coming this Summer!!!

The Paragon – Chapter 8 – Anticipation

I stood in the music store admiring the instrument on the wall. It wasn’t a famous guitar brand. It didn’t need to be. There was just something about it that spoke to me.

That’s her. Who is she? She’s lovely.

She’s an Eko SC1 Kadett Sunburst. Lean, young, lightweight with feminine curves. A dramatic departure from the angular, masculine lines of the Ibanez Iceman. I gently bring her down from her perch on the wall. She feels light and elegant in my arms.

This is it.

This is the guitar I want. I have to have her.

Then it hits me. She looks like a brand new younger and better version of my very first guitar, the Sears Silvertone!

The resemblance to my first love is uncanny, but the Eko is so much better. I think this is the attraction. Like the wounded teenager, I was in middle school. The object of scorn from the girls I wanted to like me, I’ve spent my life pursuing them. I’ve succeeded in so many ways but this guitar is probably the manifestation of those feelings. The young beauty who got away or was later replaced by what I thought was an even better girl. The Silvertone was replaced by the mighty Iceman. I think it’s all tied together in my feelings and history and has now come full circle.

I like this guitar because it looks and feels like my first guitar. The one that captured my love and imagination for the instrument and rock itself. The object that took me from music lover to music maker.

I have to have her, but I have to be careful. No more reckless spending or behavior now. I’ve done too much of that in so many ways throughout my life. Things are well under control now. I must tread lightly on this new path. (Or, am I back on the right path at last?)

As I hold her in my arms and gently pluck her strings and caress her smooth lean neck, I feel a twinge of guilt. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I almost imperceptibly feel like I’m cheating on the Ibanez Iceman. She’s the good wife who’s stayed with me through my whole life. The guitar stood by me through thick and thin. The history, the songs, and her legacy are all part of my own mythology. I can’t just take up with this hot little tart simply because she’s young and cute. That would be too close to my real past.

But there is a strong parallel here. But Eric at the pawn shop was right. When you put it on…you’ll know. I’ve known before and felt this back in 1980 and I’m feeling it here again in the music store on South Street 40 years later.

I want her, and like the women in my past or the sale, I wanted to make… I closed it. I asked the price from the owner and he gave me a great deal. The Eko is brand new and just what I’ve been looking for. She plays and feels like a Fender Stratocaster, but she’s lighter and more petite. She’s the girl for me.

I’m obviously keeping my Iceman. The original paragon is too important to me. I’ll never forsake her. But I really want this younger prettier guitar for my new life. Maybe if I do something nice for the Iceman as thank you for standing by me all these years it won’t be so bad if I start dating this younger sexier model.

I need to think about this. But I do not think too long…

Fortune favors the bold and I ask the owner of the store to hold her for me for a couple of days while I figure out my finances. He tells me he’ll hold her until 2/22/22 when he returns after the weekend. I think that’s perfect because I’m off on 2/22 and that date has a certain significance. It’s obviously a date full of 2’s that’s unique, but the weird thing is… I was married on 2/22/1992. I was divorced eight years later, but had I stayed married I would have been married for 30 years on 2/22/22. I know that doesn’t have any real meaning because my marriage dissolved years ago, but for some reason acquiring a new guitar makes sense. I’ll get my first new guitar after 40 years and I’ll do it on what would have been my 30-year wedding anniversary. Why not take up with a new guitar now.

This guitar…

See the note they placed on her?

It won’t be long now…

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

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

COMING THIS SUMMER…

The Paragon – Chapter 7 – The New Girl

I’m sure by now everybody’s sick of reading this series. But I’m working on the Wildwood book right now and the blog is on autopilot since last year. Don’t worry readers, the best is yet to come in 2023 in this blog. I’m grateful to everyone that still reads and enjoys Phicklephilly.

More time went by and the winter dragged on. It’s been really cold this season but maybe I’m just getting older. I used to be like a big generator when I was young. I was always warm and actually ran a little hot. I was the one who would give his gloves to his friend because their hands were cold. I was always warm. Not sweaty… just a well-heated core.

But as I’ve gotten older I find I really can’t tolerate the cold weather. I guess that’s why old people move to Florida. They just can’t take the cold winters in the Northeast.

I was out on one of my usual epic walking tours around the city and decided to stop back into a few music stores. I went back to Bluebond Guitars on 4th Street.

This time there was no young lady, only a couple of guys my age working there. I’m assuming one of them was the owner. I looked up at the guitars hanging from the wall and the black Ibanez Gio was gone. Hopefully, some teenage kid got it and was learning to rock. I didn’t feel any remorse because I guess I just wasn’t that into that instrument.

The guy asked me what I was looking for and I told him I had a ’79 Ibanez Iceman and just wanted a cheap guitar I could bang around on and play on a regular basis. He ends up taking a black semi-hollow-bodied Guild guitar off the wall with an $800 price tag on it.

So in that instance, I realized this guy wasn’t listening to me and had no interest in selling me a budget guitar. If I was too cheap to even spend $70 on a long-lost guitar strap there’s no way I’m spending $800 on a guitar. I don’t even want that type! I don’t really know what I want but it’s not that. All I can think of is a solid body, good shape, and lightweight. That’s it. Just something simple that isn’t the Iceman and maybe gives me a different sound and tone.

So I leave and head over to the pawn shop again. I stuck my head inside the shambles of a store and said hello to Eric. Boxes and gear are everywhere and the guys behind the counter appear to be hustling products from the store out on eBay.

I told him I was still looking and hadn’t found the guitar that would light me up yet. He told me to keep looking and at some point, I would know.

I feel like I’ve been on this quest for years now. I’ve been missing the musical part of me now more than ever but have been very content creating my blog and books. I think as long as there’s some creative avenue I can travel down I’m fine. I feel best when I’m creating but I want to begin to split that off between writing and music. Since the blog only publishes once a week now, I should have more time to put my energy into some other creative subjects.

My next stop was back to South Street Sounds. I stopped in and spoke with the owner again. I looked around the store and again told him about my quest. I also asked him about his guitar lessons.

I’m self-taught. I learned how to play guitar by listening to my records and learning the songs by ear. I hear the notes and replicate them on the neck of the guitar. I can only imagine what a musician I could have been had I gotten proper lessons as a child. But that’s another story.

He said he could give me lessons but would want to see what my skill level was before we began. He also told me he would set up any lessons around my schedule. He would only charge me $25 per lesson which seemed like a good deal. I figured even the best ballerinas take a class every day. You can always learn something from a more experienced player. I figured since I never took any real guitar lessons, that maybe if I learned some new things from a teacher I could improve my technique and master the instrument.

It should come to me naturally because I already have all the basics in my head and hands. I can play. I’ve been in a few bands. I can write songs but I would just like to be a better musician. Maybe learn some new blues runs or some cool leads. Maybe some new songs I always liked but never learned how to play. Maybe the reason I haven’t been playing much in the last few years is that I haven’t learned anything new in decades. I just keep playing the same old songs and riffs. Maybe learning some new things would reinvigorate my interest in playing.

When I began my musical journey back in the 70s I was always learning. Every experience was a learning curve. There were always new songs to learn, and write and repertoires to build for the bands I was in. This could be what’s missing from my life now.

I love learning new things. Learning is fun. But for many people, learning is associated with school, which I hated as a kid. I felt that the whole experience was a waste of time. It was just some person regurgitating a bunch of facts about things that had already been created and written by others and we had to memorize them and be tested on them. Nonsense to me. There was almost no place for creativity in school. Just memory stuff and math. I get the math part to an extent but how many times have you needed algebra in your adult life?

I liked science, English, and music class because I felt like there were elements that I could learn. But other than that school was just a prison I had to do my time until I could be released.

I think that’s why in the last couple of years I’ve stopped everything I once did in Philly over the last decade. I don’t go to bars anymore. I don’t go to happy hour anymore. I don’t have a girlfriend or hang out with a gaggle of hot young women at events. That all seems boring and a waste of time now. What can I possibly learn from an attractive 28-year-old beauty? Nothing. She has nothing to offer me but her youth and beauty. I’ve always loved those things but have no interest in pursuing them anymore. Some of it may be due to my age, (which is a relief!) but I just don’t see the sense in it anymore. I’d rather write, work, and watch my shows on Netflix. Just focus on my exercise, health, and creativity.

But I know I still hold certain traits that have been held over from my former self. I still love beautiful things and have an eye for lovely women. But now I love them from afar. I can’t be bothered getting involved with anyone now because I enjoy the simplicity of my life. I suppose because I’ve faced so much drama in my personal life over the years I’m just done with it all.

But I still feel for the beauty of life. I just don’t want any of that in a person. Maybe it’s still alive in me but in another form. Not for a young pretty woman, but for something I can possess that will bring me a similar dopamine joy. Something that won’t hurt or betray me. An instrument I can create something fun and beautiful through without involving another person’s wants or needs. Maybe an inanimate object that I can bring to life that I don’t have to text every day to reassure it I love it. Perhaps something I can develop along with. Maybe that thing has been with me all along and I’ve just been too busy working and dating pretty women to bother with.

Maybe a new, pretty guitar will be my paragon. Maybe that’s what I need. Not a girl, but a guitar. It’s so much simpler. I can be whoever I want around a guitar. I can bring my own joy forth through the instrument without the nonsense. Only good will spring forth from my heart and into my fingers on her strings.

I’m not cheating on the Iceman. I’m just spreading the genes around the musical community.

I run it over in my head again… just to reassure myself. (This is a combat mechanism I’ve installed in my brain to combat anxiety and depression.)

This makes sense why I need to do this now. Maybe I’ll replace all the women and drama in my life with a guitar. I’ve cut loose all of the crazy, toxic people from my life. I barely drink anymore. I eat right and exercise. I think I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I’ve beaten all of my vices, crazies, and booze are gone. I’ve conquered my anxiety and depression. It took me most of my life to do it, but it’s nice to finally be free of all of that pain. It’s been an arduous journey but I’ve been able to spank all of my demons and make them pay. I’ve forgiven everyone, and I no longer worry about all of the nonsense most people do. I enjoy living a simple and uncluttered life. This is now an elegant balance I’ve finally been able to accomplish after a lifetime of struggle and anguish.

But despite the ups and downs, I’ve had a good time. It’s been an exciting and colorful life.

How many people do you know who’ve had the blessing to be able to fall in love multiple times?

The rush of new love balanced with the pain and suffering of loss makes you a more complete person.

I’m sure it’s great to meet that one person, get married, and stay with them forever. But that never made sense to me. It’s just not something that was ever right for me. Good for the people that can do it, but I like being free and alone. The next love or adventure is just up around the next bend. It’s been an action-packed trip. I don’t know how most people stay in the same marriage and job their whole lives. Maybe it’s the fear of the alternative. Most people don’t like change or being alone. I dig both. I suppose if you’ve lived in a body that’s constantly wracked with anxiety and depression, any outer changes are just hills you climb to get out from under it on a daily basis.

There’s a certain joy you learn from being free and alone to do what you want, when you want, and not answer to anyone.

Love and attraction occur automatically in homo sapiens. Marriage and monogamy are RULES. There are no rules in the way the heart. The heart wants what it wants. Once you put a price tag on anything beautiful, it’s ruined.

I walked around the store and looked at their latest batch of instruments that hung from the walls.

My eyes suddenly stopped on one particular guitar hanging there among the others.

It was like walking through Spruce Street Harbor Park on a summer evening. The place is full of people. It’s dusk and not quite dark yet. Lanterns hang from the trees and people are sitting on the grass, and lying in hammocks. Music and laughter fill the air as people eat and drink as they celebrate the warm weather of the evening. I walk along the path with a friend sipping a beverage when I encounter a group of women. They’re all standing together looking lovely.

But there’s that one in the group who stands out from the others. The best one. The obvious queen of the group. There’s something about her that makes her shine a bit brighter than the rest. That’s when I saw Sarala for the first time.

I said to my friend… “I have to meet her.”

That was what I saw on the wall at the music store that day. 

I think I found the guitar I want.

To be continued next Tuesday…

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

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

JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO GO BACK IN THE WATER…

COMING THIS SUMMER

The long-awaited book about what it was like spending every summer in Wildwood, New Jersey in the 70s!

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

The Paragon – Chapter 5 – Bluebond Guitars

My next stop was Bluebond Guitars at 4th and South. It was a crisp and sunny winter day and I was out on one of my usual 5 to 10-mile exercise walks around the city on my day off.

Several places were closed during covid and some had finally started to open. I went inside and there was a blonde-haired girl sitting behind the counter. I’d never been inside of this store and it looked like any other small music store. Lots of guitars hanging on the wall and from racks suspended from the ceiling.  Mostly acoustic guitars because they’re more popular. There were stacks of amplifiers lining the walls.

I chatted with the girl about what I had been thinking about over the last two years. She showed me a couple of models but one, in particular, caught my eye. It was a black Ibanez, Gio. Upon closer inspection, I noticed little sparkles in the paint, which looked cool.

The Ibanez Gio series are basic electric guitars for beginners. This one was used and was in the price range of $120. That’s pretty cheap for an Ibanez and the same brand as the Iceman. I sort of liked the instrument and it was the first thing I had looked at or handled that I found somewhat appealing.

But I wasn’t thrilled. A basic guitar that didn’t have the best action and nothing was all that special about it. The price was right, but for whatever reason, it just wasn’t grabbing me. Part of me wanted something dramatically different than my Iceman and this just wasn’t it. I just figured if it was meant to be I could stop back in six months and the guitar would still be there waiting for me.

I left the store and walked a block to visit Gus’ hot dog stand. Gus has been in that same cart on the corner of 5th and South for over 25 years. He looks the same as he did back in the 90s but just a bit greyer. His dogs are always plump and good and the rolls are always fresh. It’s good to see that some things have lasted over time on the once-great South Street.

I continued my walk and thought about the black Ibanez, rolling the idea around in my mind if I really wanted that instrument. I decided that I’d go with what Eric had said to me down at the pawnshop months ago. “You’ll know what guitar is for you when you put it on.”

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

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. 

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