Cleared For Takeoff

The presence of a few twigs on the front porch coincided with the breezy part of spring, during which the local elms give up detritus stored through the winter when things are just not attended to by the Branch Manager.

Then we realized the robins were back. Likely it's the same pair that tried this last year and then, experiencing our coming and going and violating their construction zone, moved twenty feet west to the identical light fixture on the front of the garage. We enjoyed their courtship and shared effort in the construction. That fixture being lower allowed us to easily hold a camera up and snap the eggs, the hatch, the supersonic growth and the eventual launches.

This year, the garage was not attractive to the birds so we blocked off the front door and let Mother Nature nurture.

One half an eggshell appeared on the lawn. We feared the starlings had raided. But Linda's artfully held camera revealed at least 4 hatchlings. Now they're ready to go, all five of them! The image above was taken just before writing this on Thursday May 28. The alpha baby was wanting to do some demo flapping for the photographer, but a watchful parent dived at me. I found myself encouraged to get the heck away.

When I head home for lunch today I expect to see one or two gone. Not that I'm an expert on birds. Or on kids.

But I recall Peter Guy's first day, first grade, as I watched him walk away from me, down the sidewalk.

I remember saying goodbye to Joel, dormitory Freshman, after we unloaded his stuff at Southern Oregon University in Ashland. LiAndra shoehorned into her little red car, off to Iowa. Joe and Sarah, married and gone to fashion their own life and family.

All of them fledged and flew.

"Empty nest" is apt. A little sad, a little prideful, a moment in life when you hear that otherwise inaudible click and know that things have changed at this very moment.

Linda and I will enjoy reclaiming the use of the front door and our mailman will appreciate free access to the mailbox. Life will return to normal.

I just wish those little birds would send a postcard every now and then. Living mostly in a two dimensional world, we could learn from those who live in three.

Friday morning postscript #1: Alpha Baby Robin popped from the nest last evening and spent at least an hour hopping around the yard. Parents were always within sight, sometimes on the ground, sometimes perched above. At dark we lost track of both.

This morning, four still left in the next, enjoying the roominess. Parents still bringing groceries at an exhausting pace.

Monday Morning postscript: By Saturday evening all 5 were gone. Linda and I were fortunate to see flight #1 of Gamma Robin, from the nest, straight line to the Ponderosa, about 20' as the, er, robin flies. The parents stayed attentive throughout the major exodus, not only keeping track of the boots on the ground but also the in-training class still doing wing-flapping calisthenics in the gradually uncrowded nest.

I've added an image of one of the adolescents, could be Gamma, or Delta, or even Epsilon. Instinctively, when they're on the ground, they stay around cover, as this one was, close to the flower bed. From the back they look pretty drab, but on the front the speckled breast is charming. I had no luck getting close enough for that kind of shot. Besides, one could only imagine the hullaballoo over publishing such an image.

We're enjoying using the front door again, but a little sad that the drama is over.

Introduction to the Ed Goode Six String Barker Project

He bought his Barker Bass used, so I never really got to know him until his writings--terse, direct, entertaining, well spoken--showed up on the Barker Bass forum and elsewhere, always with kind and enthusiastic tidbits about his relationship with this vertical bass. I started paying attention to Ed Goode

Then the hammer. He wanted a six string. He is one of an elite crew, the Extended Range Bassists, who have used the bass as a vehicle to explore not only new sonic territory but to challenge conventions of building the very instrument. Stew McKinsey comes to mind, as do others such as Gregory Bruce Campbell.

One of the builders who consistently rises to the top in this realm is fellow Oregonian Fred Bolton who consistently pushes himself and his designs into admirable results.

So with a confluence of gently unrelenting pressure from Ed and inspiration from players and builders, I figured out a way that I could sidle into this genre of instrument without a full-on retooling away from the heart and soul of the company--the four and five string Barker basses.

Ed leapt at the opportunity, which required him to furnish me with a 6 string bass guitar of his liking. From that, to reduce the process to a mere line, I have the components to produce exactly what he is looking for: The Good Stuff of a Barker with Much More String!

In the images above you'll see the very rare wood which will grace the front of this bass: quilted fir. I had just a few boards to select from, and this one wins because of consistency of pattern and color match. Both sides are shown. The board will be resawn and bookmatched for the front of the bass. Also note how the colors in the fir bring out the reds and browns in the rosewood fingerboard.

From time to time I'll bring you up to date here on this process, which will be interwoven with another effort in the shop which, in a sense, heads quite the other direction but is driven by enthusiasm equal to that of Ed. Soon you'll meet Craig.

Without these two bassists, this could have been Just Another Summer.

Trashformations, Part Last

This is 60% of the products of 5 years participation. Missing are the wood tower which blew over after several years in the front yard, and the whirligig on massive bearings, driven by wind onto family size pizza pans (sold to a neighbor).

What you see here are Java Jeeves, the coffee butler; Her Royal Bugness, Queen Noreen; and this year's piece, One Thing Leads To Another. All are installed at the Redmond Oregon Public Library.

If you have any comments, know they're always welcome. If you have questions about any of these works, fire away. I like to answer.

I try to keep the subject matter moving on this blog, but since Trashformations is really about Earth Day and all that, it seemed right to, ahem, reuse the topic a couple of times.

New stuff next week. Though it may be made from old stuff....

Trashformations, Part 2

These images are scant reflections of the sanguine spirit that prevailed that weekend at Pakit Liquidators in Bend, Oregon. (See previous post for more background.)

Captions for the snapshots: The big bird was created by two lady welders--it's not often you get to use those two words in tandem--and they were a constant joy. We laughed about hiding the tape measure. "NO MEASURING!" they'd say if they happened to walk by. I'd occasionally visit them as a tape measure cop, seeing if they were packing any Stanley heat. They were just having a blast, making the sparks fly.

One of the larger scale projects was the boat, built by Dave. The arcs are from garage door rails--aha, you say, now you recognize them!--and the rest, just Pakit flotsam and jetsam. Mechanical types know that the side flanges of these rails often have bearings built in, and he used two of them and threaded a propeller shaft right on through. The low angle of the sun here tells the tale: He's about done with this. It was a startlingly graceful creation.

My effort is shown, sun likewise low, and the busy background makes discernment of the elements difficult. In the next post I'll put up a formal portrait of the finished product.

Completing something like this is a game of stages, sort of like Beethoven's 4th symphony. (I know, that's a stretch. Just listen to the last movement. It will bring you to a new level of understanding of the final hesitant steps of this endeavor.)

After two weeks of display at the Old Mill District in Bend, the more mobile projects were displayed at the weekend Earth Day celebration downtown.

Once I got "One Thing Leads To Another" back to the shop, it was difficult to ignore the sirens' keening wail. I occasionally had to pry myself away from bass work and pull out a few drawers of Stuff and Fasteners and, much like the archetypal al fresco artist, lean back and hold out a vertical screwdriver and squint past it at the "canvas." Never knew why they do that, but I tried it and I felt very official. Then I'd say, "What the heck" and bolt something on.

Next post: Portrait of the done work.

Trashformations, Part 1

Pat owns this fabulous store of reclaimed items in Bend, Oregon. Pat is concerned about the earth. Pat acts on his beliefs.

Once a year he hosts Trashformations. Local artists, anybody really, sign up for $25 and sign a release and, for 2 days, create art from the else of our culture. Some weld, some glue, some bolt, some frap. This year marks the tenth anniversary. I'm a five year veteran.

The time of year--April--can be challenging and chilly (see image of the hot tub) but it's designed to coincide with Earth Week, during which the final products are displayed. Better said, a show is mounted.

Buffalo Folsom is the coordinator of the event, and he and Pat make sure the welders have juice, the hot tub has fuel (see topmost image), and there's hot coffee and stuff to put on the barbecue for a hot sandwich anytime you want it. The creative energy in the air is palpable.

Again this year it was a delightful weekend. A future post will include more images. For now, we'll just set the scene: the center image is after turf has been established, tools unpacked and some material is accumulating. The lower image, embarrassingly out of sequence, is 7am Saturday morning.

Ladies and Gentlemen! Start your Art!

Dad's Basement Workshop and Sixth Grade Science

It was in the basement, and it was where things got fixed. Window screens were made there. Baby food jars whose lids had been nailed to the underside of a shelf contained tacks and brads and staples. And there were cigar boxes with labels like "rope, light wire" and "small bolts." That was over half a century ago.

The family workshop, kid accessible, is a rarity these days.

When Mrs. T at a local private school began to appreciate that she had students who had no opportunity to work with their hands in the world of mechanical things, she asked me if I could help. Together we concocted this little series of science classtimes centered around "attaching things." The ostensible goal was to create a sculpture out of found objects. In fact, the kids were getting their hands on screws and bolts, adhesives from epoxy to polyurethanes and--the coolest of all--pop rivets! If you're going to use those things, you'll need to know about some tools, too.

I heard myself sounding like Norm on New Yankee: "Before we get started, let's talk about safety..."

I supplied the boxes of stuff--note the closeup of the sculpture in progress--and trays of fasteners and gobs of glue.

There was 100% interest on the part of the kids. Like bringing water to the thirsty, I brought stuff and they figured out how to use it. Smiles and intense questions were reward enough.

Many people I know volunteer at schools more than I do. But if you're not one of those, consider teachers' jobs right now, and the distractions that conspire to keep them from doing the best they can to prepare these future citizens, craftspeople, innovators, parents, for a life far more complicated than we can imagine.

Take your craft, your art, your skill, your experience into the office at your closest school and find out where you can fit in. An hour a week!

To be fair, it may take more than one try to find the age group you're wired for. But once you do, you'll be stuck to this service like you'd fallen into a large vat of epoxy, lag bolts, wood clamps, lock washers, phillips head screws, and, yes, pop rivets.

Take Your Barker Bass Dancing Tonight!

Terpsichore. Not a word we get to use in casual conversation often enough. From the Muse by the same name, the one who inspires dance. You probably know where this is heading: Matt Dancing

Here is simplicity overlaid with logistical complexity beyond imagining by someone who has two weeks of vacation a year. But if you used to have two weeks and now have no job, these few minutes could be good medicine.

The Barker Bass, from the point of view of the creator, your writer, can tend to be seen in the shadow of a sacrosanctity that would not allow humor.

But there are days when humor is not only the best medicine but also the only bottle in the medicine chest.

Hence these optional endpin addenda (which are indeed for sale) and may be just the right touch for that certain gig.

Installation requires the removal of the rubber tip (it's glued on but can be forced off) and the temporary insertion of a pilot shaft which is a permanent part of the accessory.

Accessorize your bass! Adornment! It's subtler than a rubber chicken, more environmentally friendly than a string of flashing Yule lights, and more easily removed than Nascar stickers!

Above all, take a moment to dance with Matt. Good for your head, your heart and your soul and everything in between.