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Maybe you heard about the woman who just beat her husband to death with his guitar collection? Well, in her recent trial the judge asked, "First offender?"

She said, "No first a Gibson, then the Fender"

Good one Ted. How are you doing these days!

Ted

Check my FB page where i occasionally post excerpts from works in progress. I just had a fight at the Songbird Guitar Museum in Chattanooga where a brit tanker was pissed at the wreckage and tried to rescue a Tele to honor Kieth Richards. He died showing the metal horns when a Z got him.

But I'm sane. I have papers!

Talbot

thanks for asking, Jeff. It's weird being in the same city this long but I started getting out to find the community here and only this week did I figure out Spartanburg, but Greenville is pretty cool too. Haven't made it to check out Asheville since I moved here more than once

It's actually a cool little songwriter community they have in the Greenville-Spartanburg area. Bunch of friendly southerners who sound more Texan than Texans until they pick up guitars. Its a folky scene then, with a little bluegrass Americana.

It's kind of nice to be unknown at the various jam sessions around locally. These folks seem to think I have potential, and I've been offered several jobs hosting open mics that I've played at.

Marshall Tucker Band is from here. Met one of those guys at his studio briefly.

MikeTalbot wrote: I just had a fight at the Songbird Guitar Museum in Chattanooga where a brit tanker was pissed at the wreckage and tried to rescue a Tele to honor Kieth Richards. He died showing the metal horns when a Z got him.

I am sooo confused by that sentence

I thought all the Tucker boys was dead?

I heard that the current version of Tucker doesn't sound too good, but they're still touring/playing small places. Toy and Tommy Caldwell both died a long time ago. Doug Gray, lead singer, is the only original member now.

Damn! It really is good to have some one like you around. I TRULY MEAN IT.
Thank you for all the information you do pass on...

By the way thanks for yelling at me for not being able to get Amanda Lambert correct.

Ted

Sorry to be unclear, the museum is a real (and wonderful) place. Here is the scene:

At the Songbird guitar museum in Chattanooga…

Dickie Edwards looked over from the turret of his tank, and what he saw nearly broke his heart. Heaps of wrecked guitars lying in the rubble where the walls had fallen, shattered by artillery and tank shots. His tanks under a talented maniac called Buzzkiller Six had pushed their way in from the airport to rescue the guys holed up at the guitar and railroad museum.

He was a Brit, come over to the US under Justin Hawksworth’s pre-war recruiting program; he’d served in the Royal Tank Regiment in some of the earlier battles in Iraq.

Dickie was a guitar playing fool and thought Keith Richards was the coolest man who’d ever lived. Dickie hoped that Keith was still alive but it didn’t look good; nobody had heard from anyone in the UK for quite a while.

He was torn by the stack of battered Gibson Firebirds; they were always his personal favorites. It was as if Gibson had melted down into scraps and splinters, and the Zs now ruled his world. And that despite the suit of space hardened armor he wore. An Abrams tanks was virtually invulnerable to any thing the Zs could throw against it. They did tend to break down on occasion but while they rolled they were invincible.

It was the early model Fender Telecaster that took him down in the end. He just couldn’t see that and do nothing. Wonderful, bright sounding guitars… Keith’s favorite. One was laying in the roadway as if it had been blasted intact somehow from the inner sanctum of the museum. He couldn’t leave it lying there; it made everything he cared about seem like a dark, miserable joke. No, Dickie wouldn’t let the Zs win this one. What he did he did because he simply couldn’t take it anymore.

His crew shouted at him, “Dickie, don’t be an ass, get back here!” He jumped out of the tank and raced over to the guitar and picked it up and shouted, “This one’s for you Keith!”

The zombie raced out of the ruins and howled in triumph and seized him by the neck, then smashed his face in with his clawed hand and bit his nose off, ripping down his face with those jagged, broken teeth, pounding him with its fists.

Dickie Edwards was no nancy boy. Even as he was brutally murdered he fought the Z the best he could. He emptied his Glock into the creatures face, turned around and showed his crew the metal horns and dropped over dead.

Awesome Talbot ... but then who would expect anything less. Bravo

Thanks Stephan. i think of that as my 'cross over' scene.

Talbot