It’s been a while since I’ve put up a post in the "memories" category. I was thinking about times I’ve almost died. There aren’t many, I think, but still something worth sharing.
When I was in high school, I dug up my Uncle Jay’s 250 watt 15" Pevey bass amp from my dad’s barn. The funny thing about this amp was that it didn’t have a ground wire in it. It just had a 2 prong plug. I ended up cutting off the plug since it was damaged and put a new grounded plug on the end, which at least gave me a sense of security that it wasn’t going to come out of the wall.
Later on, my Uncle Kenny gave me my first 4 string base. IT was a black "series 10" bass. Nothing special about it, but it did the job. I had gotten it in my head that I’d like a natural wood finish instead of the black matte, so I got some sand paper and started to go to town on the bass. This was a lot of work. When it got time to get around the pickups and bridge, I had to undue the strings. I had the bass plugged into the amp, and the amp on, just so I could hear the awesome tones as I detuned.
So there’s me, in a damp basement, sitting in a metal chair, next to a 250 watt bass amp, that’s plugged into a surge protector on the floor next to me with a bunch of other devices, and 4 nickel wound, 1/8-1/4 inch diameter bass strings flopping around in my lap. As luck would have it, something like the alarm clock was barely plugged in to the surge protector, and one of the strings found it way in the gap. You want to know how I was sure something was wrong? Because one of the base string starting glowing bright orange. I jumped out of my seat, which was enough to move the bass string, but after some damage to the surge protector, which I still use today. Here it is:
I think that counts as almost dying.
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