Perish the thought! Finally, at the tender age of 42, I faced down a nigh life-long trepidation: any sort of merely-a-string-change guitar repair! I am indeed proud to be Nick Eddy, maybe for the very first time...
What happened was we were having two-player rawk practice in advance of Saturday's show (ah! plug!). Ms Thang went to make a French press pot and, right then, the full jack and cord and all just fell out of my Van Buren Jr High-purple Telecaster! Oh noes!
Quick as a wink, into action I sprung! First, I found all relevant pieces! Then I asked for some needlenose pliers. Kelley, being a real person, had same. My ancient peepers strained and strained in the front room half-light as I deduced how to make the fix (pull out the thread "screw" piece from innards slightly, press in "jack cup" (saucy!) without pushing the threaded piece back in to instrument (and I must confess this took a bit of doing) and the use pliers to attach the nut piece (whoo) and twist it to desired tightness (stop!).
I actually remember Cory and Morgan and others o'er the Rawk Years tightening down their various jackii, but always self-conciously sneered that guitar maintenance was the provenance of those spoiled puking brats whose parents actually sported for, y'know, lessons, thus sending them on the way to an avocation of spot-welding shit. Not for me was the cheerful workaday fate of the amateur instrument mechanic!
Until now! Trip to guitar "shoppe" saved!
Quick as a wink, into action I sprung! First, I found all relevant pieces! Then I asked for some needlenose pliers. Kelley, being a real person, had same. My ancient peepers strained and strained in the front room half-light as I deduced how to make the fix (pull out the thread "screw" piece from innards slightly, press in "jack cup" (saucy!) without pushing the threaded piece back in to instrument (and I must confess this took a bit of doing) and the use pliers to attach the nut piece (whoo) and twist it to desired tightness (stop!).
I actually remember Cory and Morgan and others o'er the Rawk Years tightening down their various jackii, but always self-conciously sneered that guitar maintenance was the provenance of those spoiled puking brats whose parents actually sported for, y'know, lessons, thus sending them on the way to an avocation of spot-welding shit. Not for me was the cheerful workaday fate of the amateur instrument mechanic!
Until now! Trip to guitar "shoppe" saved!
Zounds!
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