Another RPMer asked me if Bass was my native instrument.  I prefer it if
I had to pick just one, but it was not my first love.  Electric guitar was, but I found I was better at Bass.  I didn't want to even play the Bass.  No glory in it.  I wanted to be Prince, but that is not how the story goes.

Several years ago, I went looking for a guitar teacher.  I found an ad that
was cheap and signed up.  Eugene, the instructor, was from New Orleans and played a combo of blues and jazz primarily.  I learned 13th and 9th chords right off the bat.  Also, he made me learn the bass.  He said that I cannot be complete guitarist if I don't know what the bass is doing.  Fortunately, there a bass player on the same mission.  We exchanged instruments regularly.  It opened my eyes to a new world. Guitar does a lot, by the drive has always the bass.  And in the right hands, Bass can be so primal.  Primal...feels good! I mean loin cloth, knuckles dragging the floor primal.  Then, I was introduced...to... the Funk of my forefathers.  OH YEAH!  While I still had aspirations of being the guitar hero, Bass won me over.  I had more positive experiences with the Bass.

Fractured Fairytales, one of my last original bands, played at some sports bar that was a friend of a friend thing.  Packed house.  We each setup our gear and did a few minutes of "warming up" before exiting the stage.  Both guitarist came and went, the audience was milling around, getting drinks, etc.  About 125 people in a mid sized place.  I setup, tuned, plugged in and starting warming up.  I started slapping and popping all over the neck, not really thinking about it, just doing the thing.  The room got quiet.  I didn't really notice until I had to stop and adjust my strap.  I looked up and all eyes were on me.  Awkward.  Is my fly open?  What?  It was weird.  I retuned and exited the stage and found a spot at the bar, but I could still feel the eyes.  I leaned over to Fred, the lead guitarist, and asked why are they looking at me like that.  The bartender answered.  He said had never heard bass player throw down like that - ever.  He stopped serving drinks to see if I was for real.  But as history has shown us, its still the guitar player that gets the girly love, and this night was no different.  Since I quit playing out, I have lost most of that "fire" that I once had.  But, I will always remember the day I brought the thumb thunder, made the ground shake, and they were afraid.

BTW, if there a pitcher of purple mystery drink on the bar and a stack of Dixie cups, just walk away.  But that's a different story.

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