#dan electro

these pictures are super cool because 1) you can see the back of jimmy's dan electro and it looks like this is the same moment as this picture, 2) he's wearing his dragon guitar strap that is really pretty, and 3) you'll also notice in the second one that he's wearing the "key" necklace that the fandom has discussed a few times but--plot twist:

it's actually a skull guitar charm! I stand by my statement: super cool

It had been on my list for weeks, months, maybe years. All of February was 20 degrees and windy, so there was no way I was doing it then. But then March came, and we had a sunny afternoon on a Saturday that quickly descended into a windy freezing evening, so I had to make the best of it during the daylight hours. We had a community meeting at the library next to my apartment for Access Oasis, the accessible community garden I'm a part of. I can't believe we're entering what is only our second year. It has already grown so much and attracted some really excellent people who are eager to join. I'm so impressed! Anyway the task at hand was going to be harrowing for a number of reasons: 1) noise. errant, erratic noise. 2) being seen carrying a guitar/instrument, nobody wants that. "Oh, can you play?" (no, I can play a baritone ukulele which is almost the same just minus the two base strings - NOBODY wants to hear that lol) 3) a kind of annoying walk, depending on the weather.

Anyway, I live in a part of Astoria that is not that far from some big box stores off Northern Boulevard. A friend had sent out a message about her making Paczksi for spring, so I briefly got to see my partner and some friends (one of whom wants to work with the garden! for a farmers market!!) at her place and have a donut and then I set off down 46th street towards, gulp, Guitar Center.

I don't know if I'll ever really get back to music after ~ everything ~ but I had done the research and I knew you could walk in and have an instrument serviced, in this case new strings and a tuning. I have a lefty Dan Electro 52 that is "Commie Red" and cost $420 exactly. I know, I fuckin know. The thing came wrapped in old high life beer boxes when I received it (as if from God), after I bought it used in like 2018. So the point is I never learned on this and then a string broke and in its case it sat and sat, waiting for me to summon the energy to do this fucking horrible errand.

Walking down 46th it is much colder than I anticipated because the wind has picked up drastically. The sun was already behind most of the buildings. That's March, in like a lion out like a lamb, you know. So I'm carrying this thing and I'm dreading it so much. I know it's going to suck, but I can reward myself with a trip to HMart (Korean/Chinese/Asian Mega grocery store) next door after and buy dumplings and ramen (which I did). The Guitar Center entrance is really as bad as it can be, just a weird escalator that goes up to a Chucky Cheese and then Guitar Center is to the left. It looks dead and I don't understand how anyone has the ability to work there. The aura is cursed and there is always a screaming/crying child on the escalator, which is a harrowing herald as you're about to enter a cavern of dudes who are noodling out the Nirvana/Radiohead songs over each other. It's so loud and erratic that I have to laugh at how bad it is for my nervous system that gets super overwhelmed by noise. Just a cacophony of drums and guitars and not in the fun way I like musically!!! Not in a fun way AT ALL.

Anyway, I'm there. The kid in the service area is nice to me and gets right to work on pulling off the old rusty strings. So far so good, I just have to wait maybe 5 minutes for this whole process. Behind me at the check out desk a man is yelling at the employees over some sort of charge error. We both clock this and share a smirk and I turn and stare at neon packages of guitar strings with beautiful 60s inspired curvy fonts. Clang, do do do do do do do, clang, crash, bwaaaa, and more Nirvana songs. I make the mistake of looking left towards the door and meet the eyes of a man entering carrying a case. In this instance two things are communicated instantly to me: oh fuck he's here for the exact same thing that I am, and it's visible (to me) that he's psyched that I (a woman) am trapped standing at the same place he is headed, and he IS going to try to make conversation with me. Worst case scenario.

I make my body posture as uninterested as it can seem, stare dead eyed at the walls of instruments. It's not like I'm looking super hot, I am 38 years old, tired, and dressed as comfortably as I can be in loose clothes and a jacket and hat. The guy at the checkout counter is still screaming at the employees this whole time. This man proceeds to inquire over and over again about the certification of the establishment to fix his specific brand of guitar. He is talking over the person fixing my guitar, as if it's his appointment. He is actively trying to make eye contact with me as if I have elected to be a part of this whole situation and am not merely just someone doing a personal errand alone. It gets worse, we're both southpaws. I guess I have to make eye contact for that incredible serendipity, because yes we all agree it really sucks to buy a left-handed guitar because there are never any models in stores to try. This is why mine came in the mail wrapped in beer boxes. I am actually right handed but I just play this way, nobody wants to know this and it's not a fact I offered up to this man or the guitar tech. Anyway, I'm just gob smacked that men have this audacity. I've aged out of being hit on in almost every single environment possible, which I guess is a blessing that I'm grateful for. But Still!! He was so loud and domineering the guitar tech was essentially like "alright my dude, I will help you, just let me finish this first".

Anyway, I'm glad I did the task but also surprised and amazed that it was exactly as bad and annoying, if not worse, than I anticipated it being. I often dread things so deeply and I am trying to work on shifting my attitude, but it's not always easy when you're right about how much things suck. A small step, though, what excuse do I have now?*