Tonare Says

László

László

Too Many Notes
Joined
Apr 26, 2012
Messages
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Location
Michigan
Tonare says it, I obey.

She bought herself a very nice cap. I got her some riding boots to match. She looks a little Germanic dominatrix for my taste in them, nonetheless, she seems happy.



"Einfach tun, was ich dir sage," she said, as she reclined on the sofa wearing the boots.

I understood enough to know that nothing was going to be "my call," at least not today,

"Bringt mir eine Zigarette," she demanded.

"We don't smoke here," I said. "Besides, you and your case will stink and I will not sleep with a stinking guitar."

She was crestfallen. "How I can I do the whole Marlene Dietrich thing without a cigarette?" she asked.

"Maybe you should try something else," I said. "Be Jewel or something."
 
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"I'm not from Utah, I'm from Maryland," she replied. "I'm not going to be Jewel."

"So what's with the riding crop and the whole Deutsches thing, then?"

"It's more about Marlene," she said. "I'm really into being that blonde."

"She couldn't really stay in tune for more than half a measure," I replied.

"Yeah, but the whole gestalt of her being was magnificent. And that was the style, then, you know, to play with pitch. Kind of like a human trem bar."

"Pretty smart for a hunk of wood, aren't you?"

"I may be a new guitar," she said, "but my wood wasn't grown yesterday. I know things. Crazy things. Wonderful things. You're lucky to have me."

She changed the subject. "Does my lower bout look too fat in this case?"

"Not at all," I said.

"Maybe I should get something black, carbon fiber, sleeker, you know, to go with the boots and cap," she mused. It didn't take a genius to realize what was coming.

"I think I'd look nice in a black leather gig bag."

"Yes, and you'd also look broken in a black leather gig bag if I slipped and fell with you in it. No." I had to put my foot down. Gig bags are the motorcycles of the acoustic guitar world. It isn't if something on an acoustic guitar in a gig bag will get broken. It's when.

Tonare pouted. "I'm into leather."

"I'll let you sit on my desk chair, then. No gig bags for you."

I swear, acoustic guitars are like Divas. Teenaged Divas. It's all, "humidify me," or "put new strings on me," "I want new tuner buttons," "take me to a folk music festival, or "could you play that CSN&Y song one more time?"

And now it's leather gig bags. :rolleyes:
 
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Gentlemen:

I'm here to apologize for my inadvertent comments made on another thread that might be taken as somewhat critical of our friend and client, LSchefman.

As you can see, he's a very creative fellow. Well who wouldn't be with all the time he has on his hands, the lazy sloth!

Wait, I'm sorry, that was truly an inadvertent comment. Please do not interpret that comment as critical of our client, LSchefman.

It is clearly important to our client to maintain his relationship with the creative world, hence, his little posts like the above about his guitar. Which, let's face facts, is indicative of the fact that this obnoxious idiot --- wait, I'm sorry, I meant our wonderful client -- OK, yes, he's losing touch with reality. Well of course he is, he should be working on an ad project instead he shows up here with some crazy story he concocted and takes pictures of a guitar case wearing a hat next to a pair of boots!

I mean, it's unbearable to see this.

The man should be working, like the rest of us and I don't care if it is Sunday!

In any event, please do not take my earlier comments as critical of our esteemed client.

Very truly yours,

Aloysius V. Periwinkle

Tinkle, Binkle and Periwinkle Public Relations
Not Your Ordinary PR Agency To The Stars
 
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To the members of this forum,

This is LSchefman's wife. I honestly don't know what to do with him. I mean, OK, so he sleeps in a coffin in the furnace room with a guitar case that he buys shoes for.

Fine. I can live with that.

But now his PR firm, possibly his only remaining link with sanity, has resigned the account. I just don't know what to do.

Mssrs. Tinkle, Binkle and Periwinkle are the nicest fellows. I particularly like Binkle, he's terribly attractive in a frat boy sort of way, and a very good tennis player, but never mind that now. Please do not encourage this man. He may decide to move here permanently and live in cyberspace, which would be very difficult for those of us who still live in the actual physical universe.

And he's over 800 years old. I worry about his health. If he leaves his body to live in a fantasy world, we may never be able to open the coffin, read the secret map, and find the hidden treasure.
 
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