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Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: GUEST,Roger the skiffler Date: 03 Nov 00 - 03:46 AM I had an idea for a tv series featuring a blonde airhead who kills customers of Hertz' commercial arm but the networks said "Fluffy the van-hire slayer" wouldn't catch on.... RtS (close the door, Igor, quick!) |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Lonesome EJ Date: 02 Nov 00 - 05:55 PM Lucy was fitfully sleeping,twisted in the black silk sheets of her bed,her alabaster breasts threatening to spill from her nightgown. Van Helsing gazed at her for a few seconds,then turned to me and snapped "und so this is your fiance?" I nodded and turned my head that the Professor might not see the tears welling in my eyes.Von Helsing suddenly jerked the sheet away,displaying her nearly naked,silky-smooth body."I will need a little time alone with her to conduct a thorough examination,"he said. It was nearly an hour before Van Helsing had completed his work.I knocked several times upon the door,only to hear his voice urging me "find somesing else to do,you annoying little nose-picker!" Arcane mumblings and groans emanated from the chamber,testimony to the Professor's strenuous efforts on Lucy's behalf. At last the door was opened,Van Helsing greeted me,mopping his brow with a handkerchief."Come and look," he said.He took Lucy's elegant hand and turned it palm up."Do you see the marks?" He said."She has come under the influence of Count Fielding." I looked closely,but at last admitted I saw nothing unusual."Fool! Look at der fingertips! AH HA! Calloused! He has her playing scales,probably for hours,possibly on a 12 String Ovation Cut-away...it is difficult to tell." I collapsed into a chair,my head cradled in my hands. Van Helsing placed his hand gently upon my shoulder."There is hope,my young friend," he said," but we must keep him from her.She is in need of our help,for without us she..." I looked up,to find his jaw clenched,his eyes set angrily. "Without us she is doomed to become," he whispered "a musician1" |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Peter T. Date: 02 Nov 00 - 08:59 AM [There has now come into the editor's possession a seemingly related journal, probably from somewhere in California, given the happy face on the journal cover. It too has been mutilated at some point ....] Oct 31. Ever since returning from abroad, I have been under the weather. I also find myself strangely drawn to these two mystery instruments that I brought back with me from Castle Fielding, and find myself playing them all the time, not even stopping for food or drink. It is as if I have become compelled to play them without ceasing. When I do sleep I have the strangest dreams. I dream that my beloved husband is making little tiny boots for oxen. I dream that my bodhran has a Guinness label on it (after that dream I woke up screaming in terror). And then I dream that there is a ship with ripped sails entering San Francisco Harbor carrying a cargo of guitar cases. What can all this mean? Nov 1. I wake up in the night. I hear someone in the kitchen with Dinah, strumming on the old banjo. I look down, and it is me. My fingers are entwined with this banjo. And then I remember that Dinah has been dead for 20 years. Can no one help me? Dr. Van Helsing, my family physician, is away in Rumania at a Transfusion Conference, so I am forced to consult his assistant, Mr. Stein, who is also European, and was trained in Heidelberg. Mr. Stein suggests a course of electroshock treatments, which I decline. He says that I have a phrenologically interesting skull. I tell him that these bumps come from falling down in exhaustion from swooping up and down the dulcimer without ceasing. He mentions something about the tarantella dance, which reminds me that I am late for the tarantula lecture at the wildlife preserve. Nov. 1. Later the same day. I am reading up on the tarantella dance, which was supposed to be an endless dance that results from being bitten by a tarantula. The dancer eventually dies of exhaustion. I am beginning to feel that way about these instruments, especially as it has become difficult to take baths and showers and play music at the same time. Also, my co-workers are beginning to mutter. Nov. 1. Night. A very strange dream. I am standing by the Harbor and the ghostly ship anchors some distance off shore. A mist covers the water. From the ship I hear bizarre hornpipes and other sea shanties as if sung by lunatics and howling dervishes, not unlike a bad night at the local pub. The sound of a cajun accordion floats above it all. Eventually, the mist recedes, and a strangely accented voice beckons to me: "Come in, you can valk on the vater, no problem, take you a veek or two of really hard practicing, but then it is a piece of cake." I place my feet on the water, and lo and behold, I am able to walk out to the ship. I am lifted up on board, and who do I see but Count Fielding! I ask him what he is doing in the New World, and he says that he is going to visit a cousin of his called Buffy or Muffy or something. "But enough of talk," he says, "I have brought you a new instrument, combination snake and autoharp, called ze slitherzither! It goes vel vith the old Carter Family tune, "I Tingle With My Mangles" And he hands it to me. It drapes around my neck, and seems to clutch me oddly. "Give me an A!" he says," Or an AB Negative!!" At this the ship howls, and ghouls appear out of every nook, playing strange fiendish instruments and chanting something about albatrosses and ships lost off the Cape of Good Hope. I wake up. Daylight fitfully enters my room. I now have 3 instruments, and am rapidly losing weight, as I am not even taking time off to eat. Every waking moment is now spent with my music, and most of my sleeping ones as well. The sun is pale today. I am so mesmerized and exhausted that I feel my strength ebbing away. Dr. Van Helsing, where are you? Can nothing break this sorcery?.... [at this point the diary dissolves into an unreadable scrawl, and then breaks off] |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: GUEST,Roger the skiffler Date: 02 Nov 00 - 05:24 AM But has Rick got one of these? That Balkan music store must have one? From today's Daily Torygraph online: THE hills were alive to the sound of something peculiar yesterday as the Prince of Wales began the first royal tour of the seven-year-old Republic of Slovakia with a blast on one of Europe's most unusual instruments. His first stop on his two-day tour of the poorer half of the old Czechoslovakia was the Carpathian mountain region around Banska Bystrica, the centre of the doomed Slovakian Uprising of 1944. In pouring rain he strolled through a primeval forest where he was welcomed by the reedy wail of the fujara, a hybrid of the recorder and the didgeridoo favoured by Carpathian shepherds for 800 years.
Presented with his own model, the prince felt he should give it a go. "My fingers aren't big enough," he said as he tried to hold the 4ft instrument in the correct manner. He managed to emit a respectable selection of notes and promised to find some fujara recordings so that he could practice when he got home. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Lonesome EJ Date: 01 Nov 00 - 03:25 PM Van Helsing gripped my arm as we prepared to enter the dark cellar of the castle."Wait!" he whispered "Wear this!" He pressed something shiny into my hand: it was a Ricky Martin CD on a silver chain."He fears this more than anything.But if it does not stop him...tip him $5 and ask him to play Cracklin' Rosie.He is a creature of habit,and thirty years of playing in bars make it impossible for him to refuse!" We entered... |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Songster Bob Date: 01 Nov 00 - 01:57 PM Here's some of my ghosts (an older photo; there are several more now): http://members.aol.com/rjclayton/instrums.jpg Bob Clayton |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: rangeroger Date: 31 Oct 00 - 10:15 PM I Counted ( HaHaHa) playable strings hanging on the wall. 63 rr PS. That was vun string,two strings, three strings.....oh sorry thought it was the Muppets thread too. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: z! Date: 31 Oct 00 - 03:01 AM I plead "typo" for that (and all other) misspelling. In the North (of the USA), it's was the "Civil War". In the South, it was the "War of Yankee Aggression". Got to keep those separate from the intra-country wars of other nations. z!
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: p.j. Date: 30 Oct 00 - 06:07 PM I think Rick sang briefly with the Charlatones in the early 60's... pj |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: mousethief Date: 30 Oct 00 - 06:03 PM Z, you are obviously bluffing. Everybody in the North (and West) knows how to spell "Civil War" and nobody in the South would ever call it that. And the phrase "American Civil War Soldiers" has no referent. Although a handful of Ab Charlatones were created in the mid-to-late 1800's, most of the Charlatones were in the key of G#.
Alex |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: z! Date: 30 Oct 00 - 05:59 PM PeterT is a sick, but deranged, person. And I mean that in the best of ways :-). Possibilibies include: the Lost Tremoloa, along with a rare D/G ceramic jug used in the early recordings of Riley Puckett and an Ab Charlatone alleged to have been used by American civel war soldiers. Or am I bluffing? z! |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: MMario Date: 30 Oct 00 - 04:12 PM obviously time for a commericial break. May I remind everyone we still have approximately 2300 or so songs without tunes in the DT? Feel free to contribute. Now, back to this evening's entertainment.... |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Peter T. Date: 30 Oct 00 - 04:05 PM Day 2. Midnight. I do not know if I will survive this experience, but perhaps my journal will be able to be smuggled out, to warn an unsuspecting world. It began beautifully enough, as our coach came out of the mountain pass, and Castle Fielding was seen in the dying, but exquisite orange of the setting sun. In the distance, the peasants could be seen picturesquely crossing themselves and running for their houses as the shadow line of the encroaching night fell along the ancient Carpathian fields. Our coach rattled up to the vast entrance, and as I looked out, I was surprised to see that there was no coachman -- he had somehow mysteriously disappeared -- and that there were only two bats flitting about, flying back and forth over the now exhausted horses. They flew in front of the horses, who reared up and halted. Then there was silence. I got out, and in the empty castle forecourt, I put my luggage down. I knocked on the great iron door, and then noticed a bell pull. I pulled the bell, which immediately began to play "Dem Bones Gon' Arise Again". The door flung open, and Count Fielding (I presumed) rushed out. " Goot evening!! Did you know that Riley Puckett did a vonderful wersion of that on the vindchimes in 1934?" He was a striking figure in his Rumanian white-tie and tails, topped off with a "Ban Impalers" baseball cap. I looked bewildered. He bowed. "Forgif me, I am somevhat of -- vat is it you call it in America? -- an enthusiast. Vere are my manners?" He clapped his hands, and two blacksuited servants appeared out of nowhere, and whisked my suitcases away. "Velcome to Castle Fielding, a.k.a. Fielding's House of Mystery Instruments." He ushered me in, somewhat like Roderick Ussher. It was a strange, and magnificent sight. Cobwebs were everywhere, draped and entangled over wall upon wall of ancient instruments, themselves hung upon the wall like captives in a dungeon. Along one wall one could see a whole progression of instruments, from Arabic lutes captured no doubt during the Crusades, all the way to Gibsons, and Martins, and Takamines. Along another, strange Ovidian serpentine wind instruments writhed in various extraordinary shapes. We moved past them, and it must have been my imagination or a gust of wind, but it seemed as if some of them reached out to grab me. The Count, with an imperious gesture, swatted them down, saying: "No, no, no, zis one is mine!" Which made no sense to me. At the time. Over dinner, the Count and I were serenaded by an extraordinary group of women, whom he called the Vixie Chicks, that appeared to my tired eyes to be playing their long flowing hair with violin bows. He suggested that if I was really eager I could learn to play my hair as well, but I would have to grow it out. He apologised for the absence of Countess Fielding, who he said was having a night out with the girls -- though he did actually say "on the girls", but his prepositions are not always the best part of his English. At the end of the dinner, as we were finishing a second bottle of bloodred wine, and I was feeling very fatigued from the journey, the Count said something very odd. He picked up his wine glass, and held it up to the light. Its red colour flickered across his face. "Ever played the vine glasses, Mr. Renfield? A very powerful ghostly sound, like the harmonics on a D-18. But, to business. I appreciate that you have come here to study the vamplified theorbo vith me, thanks to my cousin in Canada. It provides me -- you provide me -- vith an opportunity. I vish to travel to that part of the world, and you can prepare my way. " I happily assented to this, eager to be of assistance. "When would you like to travel?" I said. "Oh," he smiled, revealing an extraordinary set of teeth, " as soon as possible. I have some arrangements to make -- many in the key of Eb -- but then I would go." I suggested that in today's world, he could hop on a plane very quickly and be there in no time. He frowned. "I only travel by rail and sea. The reason is that I have many, many large guitar cases that must travel with me, and I do not trust airlines. But enough, enough for tonight. Let me show you to your room." Lit by a flickering candle, we climbed innumerable staircases, which were crawling with cats that continually threatened to trip me underfoot. Curiously enough, as we climbed, my vast shadow flowed along the walls, but of the Count's shadow, some trick of the candlelight seemed to prevent its appearance. The Count showed me to a vast bedroom, at the centre of which was a fourposter bed, and in the corner of which were piled enough musical instruments to satisfy a symphony orchestra. I thanked him profoundly for his hospitality, and he turned to go. Then he turned back around. "Sleep vell, Mr. Renfield. You vill not be disturbed this evening. Our plans vill take a little time to marinate, so to speak." He smiled his gracious smile and left. I was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow. It was a restless sleep. At one point I had a strange dream that the musical instruments rose up and began playing themselves. At another point I dreamed that Count Fielding was chatting with a group of bony figures, attempting to teach them skeleton keys. At another, I dreamed that he was leaning over me with a blood red cajun accordion in his hands speaking to someone he called Lestat, and they were discussing hot sauces and condiments. Morning, Day 2. I awoke early to find that the instruments, so neatly piled in the corners last night were strewn all over the floor. I tripped over a shawm on the way downstairs, and nearly fell 5 stories down the stairshaft to my death. There was no sign of Count or Countess Fielding, who, like their Canadian cousins, were obviously not early risers. I found that there was no one at all in the castle. I spoke out at the top of my lungs but only echoes replied. I was very hungry, in spite of the dinner the previous evening. I resolved to seek out the kitchen. Eventually, I found a dark staircase at the back of the castle, that seemed to descend into what might turn out to be servant's quarters. With some trepidation, I stepped down. I was mistaken. The staircase seemed to descend and descend for many stories below the surface. Finally, it stopped at an iron door. I pushed against it, and it opened slowly. Imagine my surprise when I saw what lay before me. As far as the eye could see, on what appeared to be a dank earthen floor, was row on row of gigantic guitar cases. Some were graced with intricate leatherwork, but most were a dismal, deadly black. I wandered through this storehouse of music, and my curiosity began to get the better of me. I decided that I would like to get a peek at some of these Mysterious Instruments that Count Fielding set so much store by, that he was prepared to cart them all the way to the New World with him, at extraordinary cost. I reached down to unclasp, and open, the nearest, and most ornate of the black guitar cases, and just before I did so, a rat rustled past me, and out of the room. I started back, and then took courage, and reached down again, unclasped the case, and opened it!!!!!!! Horror!!! What have I found!!??? I --- [The manuscript unfortunately breaks off at this point.] |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: p.j. Date: 30 Oct 00 - 02:12 PM Peter, the thing that makes this so hysterical is that it's SO TRUE! We gotta get him in some kinda 12 step program. (He'd have them all singing "...Hello Rick..." in harmony by the end of the first meeting though, as he accompanied them on the Vampified Therobo.) Rick has the true heart of a teacher. He absolutely believes in everybody, and wants them to know how great it can feel to make music. Where he gets his patience and talent I'll never know. Where he gets his Pfarflebutz and Harmonicandelabra I'm not sure I wanna know. Sure is fun though-- lyin' on the tracks, watching that Fielding Special come barreling toward ya... pj |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Rick Fielding Date: 30 Oct 00 - 02:05 PM "Heaven's Doorbell" As you travel down life's path, Just searchin' for a face. Lookin' East and West, For that peaceful resting place. I know a destination, Where your journey's bound to end, Where you'll cease your earthly labours Where you'll find your dearest friend. There's a mansion waitin' for you And it's not built by man. It's not of this earthly plane but reach it if you can. You'll find there are no gates or guards or trouble for your mind, When you ring Heaven's doorbell What a welcome you will find. Chorus: Ring the bell (weary traveler) Ring the bell (lonesome pilgrim) Ring the bell and put a smile on, For the welcome you will find. From Bill Monroe sings Rick Fielding (I Wish!)
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Bert Date: 30 Oct 00 - 01:11 PM If I remember rightly Matt, that D-76 had 'F' holes. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: hesperis Date: 30 Oct 00 - 01:00 PM I really almost fell off my chair laughing at that, Peter! Thank you, I am warned... |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Peter T. Date: 30 Oct 00 - 12:43 PM It isn't the instruments that makes Fielding's House of Mystery Instruments so scary. It is that as soon as you arrive, weird musical creatures somehow materialize in your arms. I have this sort of image. You walk up to the house, and press the doorbell. Rick comes out and says: "Isn't that an amazing sound! Did you know that a doorbell very like this one was used in Bill Monroe's early gospel song: "If You Ring The Doorbell, Jesus Will Answer!" Here, play this doorbell in 6/8 while I get out the mandolin." Or, on another day, you stroll up, and he is cutting the lawn with a Weed Whacker. "Hey!" he says, "Have you ever noticed that a Weed Whacker is a Bb when it is cutting grass, and an A when it is cutting weeds? If you hold this, I will get the lawnmower -- which is in low D -- and we will do Malvina Reynolds' "God Bless the Grass"!" And so on. And this is before you get in the door. Once inside, anything can, and usually does happen. If you blink, there is a bassoonet in your hands. How did it get there? What has possessed him to think I can play the hybrid electric autoharp, the plastic saxophonedobro, the harmonicandleabra? And then it really starts: "You know," he says, "I saw a really nice one of these in the Carpathian instrument/laundromat store yesterday. It would only take you a few days to get really good on it, if you gave up everything else and went to Carpathia of course. But it is possible." And so, somehow, without knowing it, you find yourself on a coach, driven by bats, approaching a dank castle in the Carpathian forest, about to devote your life to the vamplified theorbo.... ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE FIELDING HOUSE OF MYSTERY INSTRUMENTS!!!! BE WARNED!!!! yours, Peter T. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Rick Fielding Date: 30 Oct 00 - 10:22 AM Great stuff Dale. Trad, I think the hybrid on the bottom has to be called a harp lute guitar, cause it shares as much with the Gibson and Lyon and Healy harp guitars as it does with the lute guitars. You know we have a verrry weird antique instrument (and other things) store in Toronto that has a number of late 1800s things. None of them are in very playable shape and the owners speak very little English. They are probably Eastern European. They don't react well to the local instrument nurds and won't (or can't) answer questions about the instruments. Their standard response to everything is "you gonna buy"?! They keep getting more and more of these treasures, often with hundred year old strings on them, but don't get any friendlier....so nothing gets sold. It's quite frustrating. They also don't have prices on them, and seemingly make them up as they go along. Everytime I've been there, there's at least a couple of guys who DO know their language chatting away with the owners. Even though I've tried everything to get them to trust me, I'm still regarded as suspicious when I walk through the door. I think it's the fact that when I look at the instruments, I'm sighting down necks, and trying tuners. I don't think they know anything about them...probably some relative sends them over from Europe. It might help if I was able to make some pretty music on one of them, but they all need major restoring. I'll figure something out one day. Rick |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: tradman Date: 30 Oct 00 - 10:03 AM The first instrument is either a theorbo or an arch-lute. Both were popular in the late renaissance. The second is a lyre-guitar, a novelty instrument from the "return to innocence" craze (I believe it had some popularity in the '20's but I'm not certain). The third is a lute-guitar. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Dale Rose Date: 30 Oct 00 - 12:38 AM Apologies in advance for a slight jog in thread direction. No haunted instruments, but strange and mysterious for sure. Check them out here. Like I say on the page, no prizes, but you get extra points if you actually own one of these babies. I do know what the third one is, should know the second, and have no clue as to what the first one might be ~~ count those pegs!. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Lonesome EJ Date: 30 Oct 00 - 12:04 AM I'm sorry you had to hear it from me T2D. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Thyme2dream Date: 30 Oct 00 - 12:00 AM Jimi's dead?? |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Lonesome EJ Date: 29 Oct 00 - 11:14 PM On this wall...here,let me take it out of the glass case for you...is an upside-down-strung right-handedHarmony Ukelele purportedly used by Jimi Hendrix at a Sigma Chi Fraternity Party at the University of Washington in 1965.It doesn't sound like much right now,but notice the pick-up? Hendrix used to play Tiny Bubbles through this small bastard into a 400 Watt Marshall "Exploder" amplifier til he'd make you think you were losin' your mind. the dent in the side? That's from the Fresno Pop Festival in 1969 when Jimi bashed Jerry Garcia in the side of the head with it because of a disparaging remark Jerry made about the nylon strings on it.Just think...if Jimi hadn't died young he'd probably be playing this baby on the Holiday Inn circuit by now. |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Rick Fielding Date: 29 Oct 00 - 10:57 PM Thyme, I want to bear your children!! My friend Doug also got a chance to hold the great man's F-5 while he visited a porta-potty.....seems ya had to get him at the right time! Rick
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Thyme2dream Date: 29 Oct 00 - 10:36 PM Can't count instruments cos I fainted dead away at the mention of the 1912 A-2 Gibson Mandola...(envy, not fright) Oh well...I missed the first thread-count on instrument tycoons! I'll survive on the vicarious thrill, and on the fact that I once held Bill Monroe's famous Gibson-scratched out and then repaired- mandolin... |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: p.j. Date: 29 Oct 00 - 10:26 PM Don't fall for it, Peter-- the only reason you didn't get this cold is you're the only one of us who hasn't had your mouth on Rick's Pfarflebutz. Do get him to demonstrate his Piccolodeon for you, though. He has to take his shoes off to cover the 11th and 12th holes with his toes, but that allows him to squeeze the bellows with his knees, freeing his mouthstick to operate the keyboard. The last night I was there he played the Moonlight Sonata on it for me. Moved me to tears. Moved the neighbors to Detroit. pj |
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Subject: RE: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Matt_R Date: 29 Oct 00 - 10:12 PM What about the famous Kodak D-76 model guitar, with the 55mm lens mounted in the sound hole? HA HA HA HA HA!! |
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Subject: Haunted House of Mystery Instruments ooh From: Rick Fielding Date: 29 Oct 00 - 10:07 PM No, I didn't think this one up myself. It's courtesy of Peter T. from the "Worshiping Pam Swan" thread. It's got a ring of truth to it though. Since we last went through that embarrasing period of "counting the number of strings" certain Mudcatters had in their houses (I beat out Michael Miland by remembering an almost forgotten spare autoharp) I've added a few instruments. A Hammer Dulcimer (courtesy of Catter "Shug"), a Hohner Cajun accordion (no strings but much frustration) and a 1912 Gibson A-2 Mandola. Since that thread I've sold: A 1914 Gibson Mando-Cello (to Catter Davey) a Takamine Acoustic/electric Bass Guitar, and a small keyboard Hohner accordion (to buddy Tony Quarrington). The last thing we need is for us Mudcat veteran "Instrument Nurds" to start listing all are shit again, but there've been quite a few new folks come on board since then...any of you want to share info on your "treasures" with us? Oh and of course, veterans who've been wheeling and dealing. Next time you come over Peter, I want you to try my Pre-war 13 string Yak hide Pfarflebutz. Rick |
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