Dot

Dot the Dalmatian

Dot is the name I’ve given my latest girlfriend (still just a guitar, people). The primary, albeit not sole reason I’ve dubbed my vintage sunburst finish Epiphone Les Paul Standard with the moniker of Dot is because there’s a small dot in the pick guard. And now you know.

Anyway, she showed up today. Hardly any adjustments needed, although I may have to relax the truss rot a bit as the neck’s almost too straight. Put some new strings on her and had at it for a good length of time. Plays much the same as my temperamental Mexican girlfriend, although the action’s a tad lower. Feels terrific; sound is pure LP. I keep having to remind myself that’s the way it’s supposed to sound as it’s not a Strat so I’ll stop trying to turn up the treble past 11!

Dot the guitar

The other reason I named her Dot is tied into the day job. At one time I was allowed to be creative in advertising, and came up with the idea of having a Dalmatian as the company symbol. The dog was eventually named Dot. Anyway, I was shoved into the corner when the department head at the time decided to hire an advertising expert who said everything I did sucked and hired a bunch of freelancers to redesign everything. Bye bye Dot. Both the department head and the expert are long gone, but Dot remains banished.

While I was playing Dot, I found myself being drawn to play more contemplative music than my usual blues and rock norm whenever I go electric. Kind of worshipful, especially for me. It reminded me of days long since past when I’d spend hours hunched over a guitar, writing songs and dreaming of the stage. The latter remained a dream until it eventually faded in favor of writing about the music and its creators in lieu of creating music myself.

Now? The stage is occasionally thought about, but usually dismissed in short order as something most likely not to take place. However, I am enjoying creating music again.

Rather like I enjoyed creating Dot.

Actually, a lot more.