Dana_V

A while back I listed a Hercules seven-space guitar rack on Facebook Marketplace. It ended up selling for $65.00, but before that – along the usual "is this still available" questions – I got this:

I work for a lighting company called High End Systems in Austin, Texas; High End's parent company, ETC, is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year and will be hosting various events throughout the year. The first one was last Tuesday, and included live music in the demo room. I ended up being the MD for it, coordinating who played what on what song, etc. There are a lot of employees who play, so it was a bit of a juggling act to make it all fit together. But overall I think it went down pretty well, and even the big bosses down from ETC headquarters in Wisconsin were pleased with it. The plan is to do it again next year, if not sooner. The bass player standing behind me and the drummer are from my band SUIT (they both work there too). My main guitar was my 2020 Shishkov DC, although of course I brought my beloved '81 Hamer Special along as a backup. Playing my 2005 Galveston resonator while manufacturing engineer Tom sings a rousing rendition of "Man of Constant Sorrow." (Tom was in a metal band in the 80s and pictures exist of him with big poofy hair and spandex pants.) Customer service rep Robyn sang "Free Fallin'," and I used my Eclipse-12 with a capo at the third fret. The father-son team of Juan and Xavian on bass and guitar - along with young drum phenom Eric - needed a singer for "Paranoid," "Ain't Talkin' 'bout Love" and "Sad But True," so they recruited me. I used my 1955 Supro lap steel for the closer, "Let's Work Together."

The walnut '75 was my first Gibson too. It was such a monumental moment for me the details are forever etched into my memory: I got it from Evans Music City in Houston on November 8, 1975, and I paid $479.80 (including tax) - which, at age fourteen, was a lot of money. I had worked out a deal with my parents that if I saved up half they would loan me the other half. It took me a little while, but I paid them back in full - with money I made playing the guitar.

This Christmas, my SG family grew by one: 2019 Junior (yes, I bought it for myself). I had been on the lookout for one of these for quite some time, and while I really would have liked a white one, I finally had to accept that it just wasn’t going to happen given my guitar-buying budget. So when this one came up on Reverb last November at a reasonable price, I pulled the trigger (I checked to be sure it was okay when it arrived, then put it back in the case until Christmas Day). It’s not mint by any means, but there are no down-to-the-wood scratches or scars and the neck has never been broken. The strap buttons were missing, but that‘s okay because I install Dunlops on all my guitars anyway. It came with the original case – which is in great shape. It has zero fret wear and the neck is nice and thin, just like I like. I replaced the knobs with top-hat “reflector” knobs because that’s what Gibson used on SG Juniors in the 60s. Sound-wise it’s exactly what you’d expect from an SG Junior, and it seems to live best in the “tube amp slightly pushed into overdrive” zone. My SG family: 1975 Standard, bought new in 1975 1979 Standard, bought used in 1981 2013 Original, bought used in 2018 2019 Junior, bought used in 2024

One day in October of 1984, while living in Houston, Texas, my friend/bandmate Kato called and said he was going to look at some speakers for his bass amp and asked if I would like to come along. I said sure. We went to Musician’s Shop, a small music store in a strip center on Bissonnet Street in nearby Bellaire. While he was engrossed in conversation about speakers with one of the sales staff, I wandered over to the guitar area. By this time I already had two Hamers: a 1978 Sunburst, purchased used from Lake Charles Music (Lake Charles, Louisiana) in 1982, and a new Blitz, special ordered through Evans Music City in Houston in 1983. But I was always on the lookout for another. There, on the left-hand side of the store on a floor-level rack, was a black Hamer Special. It was new – it still had the Hamer hang-tag attached – but it looked like it had been there for a while. The finish was smudged with fingerprints, it was out of tune and was missing a string. The hand-printed price tag read $820.00. I put my left hand around the neck and knew it instantly: I had found The One. It if was a movie, blue lightning effects would have been added in post-production to indicate the “electric” connection between the guitar and me. For many guitarists – including me – the shape and feel of a guitar’s neck is of utmost importance. I like them on the thinner side, while some players prefer the opposite; it’s a matter of personal preference. But this neck was perfect. (Many years later, when Mike Shishkov was building a guitar made to my specs, I sent him measurements of Blackie’s neck for reference.) I didn’t say anything to the Musician’s Shop employees, but after Kato dropped me off at home I gathered some cash I had squirreled away for just such an occasion and drove back to the store. I got the attention of the guy behind the counter and said, “I’m kinda interested in that black Hamer, but $820 seems a little high. Anything you can do?” “Hmm,” he said, and poked at his desk calculator. “How about $775?” “I don’t know,” I said, “that still seems like a little too much.” “All right, lemme see what I can do,” he said, and in a classic used-car-salesman move disappeared into the back of the store. After several long minutes, he came back. “Okay. I can do $725.” I’ve never been much of a negotiator. I don’t like “haggling” and have always hated the ridiculous cat-and-mouse game traditionally associated with buying a car. So I don’t know what came over me in that moment, but suddenly I was bursting at the seams with a buyer’s confidence I’ve never experienced before or since. Maybe it was because I knew, without a doubt, that that guitar and I were destined to be together. Ignoring his $725 offer, I calmly said, “How about this: I give you THIS” – I pulled $600 cash out of my pocket and laid it on the counter – “and you give me the guitar?” He hesitated for a beat and then said, “I’ll go get the case.” Beneath my calm exterior, I was ecstatic. He was gone for a long time. While I waited, I browsed some guitar straps on display near the front of the store and selected a blue nylon one. (I always liked the color combination of black and blue.) He finally returned and said, somewhat sheepishly, “We couldn’t find the case. I’ll make it $525 and you can have this one” – a generic rectangular one-size-sort-of-fits-all guitar case. “Works for me,” I said. “Oh, and I’m taking this strap too.” He glanced up briefly from writing up the sale and said, “Yeah, that’s fine.” And that’s the story of how I got Blackie. For many years I assumed it was a 1984. But, later, when I learned more about Hamer history and how to read their serial numbers, I realized it was a 1981 – which explains why it was so dirty and the case was nowhere to be found. It sat there in the store for three years, waiting for me to come in and rescue it. It’s been my constant companion ever since. It went with me every day to GIT when I was going to school there – and it became part of my identity. (At Musician’s Institute in the 1980s, where guitar nerdiness was elevated to extreme levels, people were often identified by the guitar they played: the guy that plays the red Ibanez RG, etc. I was The Guy That Plays the Black Hamer.) I’ve always been careful with all my guitars, but any instrument that gets as much use as this one is going to end up with some battle scars, and Blackie has plenty. Like where the finish has been worn off where my right forearm contacts the body, or chips in the paint where it got hit by a falling cymbal stand. One night in 2007 during a Rhythm Dawgs gig, the stitching on that blue nylon strap – the one I got from Musician’s Shop all those years ago – came unraveled and the guitar went crashing down onto my pedalboard. The impact knocked several chunks of paint off the lower edge of the body and put a huge gouge in the neck between the nut and high-E tuner. But thanks to rock-solid Hamer craftsmanship, nothing broke. As my guitar collection has grown over the years it doesn’t get quite as much playing time as it used to, but I know it’s always there for me. It always gets played at gigs, even if for only one song. I’ve changed the bridge pickup a few times – Duncan Distortion, Duncan JB, DiMarzio PAF 36th Anniversary – but a couple of years ago I came across the original in a box of old stuff, so if I ever decide to put it back in I can. A while back longtime Dawgs/SUIT drummer Bill Asa asked me, “When was the last time you did a gig without that guitar?” My answer? “Before I got it.” 1990: 2023:

In the late 80s, he used to come into the record store/video rental place where I worked. He always seemed like a really cool guy. Here's an update from Facebook:

I'll be there on Saturday (October 19). Anyone else going? I'm not selling anything, and I probably won't be buying anything either - well, unless I find a REALLY good deal on an SG Jr. - but last year it was really cool walking around looking at all the ridiculously expensive guitars I'll never be able to afford. And it was great getting to meet some of my fellow HFCers in person.

Since things have been a bit quiet lately, here's a picture of 0092 and me from last Saturday night. ...and a fairly unflattering guitar face:

0063, 0092. When I ordered Ultimate 0063 in 2015, the serial numbers were in the 60s. I requested 0063 in honor of my wife’s birth year, 1963 (she passed away in 2014). Two years later, my daughter and I went on an epic Texas-Connecticut road trip to Shishkov HQ and picked it up in person on Monday, July 10, 2017. While we were there, I was able to select the wood for the top of DC 0092, which was delivered by FedEx on Sunday, July 5, 2020, at 9:07 AM.

Take care of yourself and do what you've gotta do - we can wait. Wishing you a full and speedy recovery! Dana 0063 0092 0139

LOVE the trans blue!

Be still my heart.

Yeah, but just think of it. A fully-assembled bicycle, same-day delivered by DRONES. I mean, come on, how awesome would that be?

...raises hand...<eyes drift toward upper right hand corner of picture>

Must. Remain. Calm.