Once I posted an ASL video and some asshole told me to learn to read lips. I asked him why, and he said, “It’s easier.”
I bought the black guitar and the bass used. The black guitar was a Cort, and I guess a copy of a stratocaster. It was originally red, with white lines zig-zagging all over it, like some of Eddie Van Halen’s guitars. But I didn’t like that look, so I had it painted. The bass was a copy of a Fender bass. The sunburst brown Stratocaster, though, was a real Fender Stratocaster and I bought it brand new.
Eventually I sold all of these guitars and the amp. To this day, I regret selling the strat. That was my favorite guitar and I should’ve treasured it.
Fisher Body, taken from in front of Grandma and Grandpa Piehl’s house in Pontiac, mid-90’s. I think the factory was abandoned at the time of the pictures, but I remember times when I visited Grandma and Grandpa and that lot was full of cars.
Okay, I’ll play Throwback Thursday this week. Here’s my first car. 1977 Plymouth Fury, if I remember correctly. It ran for five minutes, broke down and never started again.
I just got home from the Suncrest nursing home, where I saw my aunt Barb for possibly the last time. She has a stage 4 kidney disease and decided to not do dialysis. It was a small family gathering, with pizza.
I keep thinking about a time when me, my brother Fred and our cousin Jimmy were walking around town during Lapeer Days. We stopped by Aunt Barb’s house for while and she let us watch Mtv. I remember that one of the videos was Guns n’ Roses’ November Rain, which Barb seemed to like as much as us. That would have been in the early 90’s.
Aunt Barb never talked to me like I was “special”. She talked to me with the same respect and manner that she talked to anyone else, and I really appreciate that. In Barb’s presence, I felt like an equally intelligent person.
I always loved Aunt Barb. She is an important person in my life.