I alluded to this in my last post but I decided not to include it because I thought I would veer so far off course that I would no longer have any idea where I was going and then I’d have to get back on track and get back to the point of the story and then finish it, well, understandably, it could have been a very, very long story (kinda like that sentence).
So I decided to save the side story and make it into it’s own thing… that way I can really do this story justice. And justice it shall have. In my last post I said I dropped my rickety old 4-track multiple times and then it didn’t work so well… Turns out, there’s a huge back story (surprised? Probably not.).
I bought the 4-track so I could record a spoof song for my brother (Grow Your Own Hay, oh yeah!). I had never recorded anything before, so my knowledge was limited at best. There was a lot of manual-reading and chin-rubbing going on. I managed to get a (very) basic understanding of how it worked and was considering starting the recording process. That was about the time I started dropping the thing.
I was slightly panicked because I really needed to get the project finished (and started!) but I didn’t want to spend any more money doing it. So I called my Mr. Fixer Friend. He fixes everything for me: desks, guitars, tables… … my broken heart (he’s my real-life-Gary!). Normally, our conversations go like this:
Me: Daaaaaaaaaaaaa-ve… !!
Him: Hi Heather. What’s wrong?
Me: It’s just that I dropped my guitar and now it has a big gouge in the neck and I don’t know what to doooooo!!
Him: I can take a look at it and we can fix it. Okay?
Me: Okay… are you sure you can fix it, I mean, it’s a pretty big gouge??
Him: I’m sure it’ll be fine. Don’t worry, we’ll fix it.
Me: Okay… thanks Dave!
So when I dropped my 4-track and it no longer appeared to be working, I called Dave, in my normal state of panic. Our conversation went like this:
Him: Hello? (he sounded really sick)
Me: Hi Dave. Are you okay?
Him: I’m really not feeling well.
Me: You don’t sound like it.
Me: So… you know… the reason I’m calling…
Me: Daaaaaaaaaaaaa-ve… !!
Him: Uh-oh. What’s wrong, Heather?
Me: It’s just that I dropped my 4-track and now it doesn’t work and I don’t know what to doooooo!!
Him: Oh. Okay.
Me: Okay? What?! Don’t you think you can fix it, I mean, it’s just a 4-track, right?
Him: I don’t know; I can try but I can’t guarantee anything.
I was speechless. I can’t really recall the rest of the conversation, but I think it’s safe to say ‘disappointed and distraught’ are very good descriptors of how I was feeling. We got off the phone and I continued to mope around the house and, in general, be bummed out. Whaa… I can’t do my project!
A few hours later, Dave called me back. He was feeling much better and had time to consider it (and call people who knew stuff about it) and he wanted some details: how high did you drop it from, was it plugged in, did the plugs jam into the jacks when it fell, etc. My responses: Pretty high, like 2 feet! Yes it was plugged in and yes the plugs did jam into the jacks… yeah, it pretty much fell right on the cords, jamming them right in there.
Conversation not withstanding, he said that he would open it up and look and at the very least solder any loose connections, maybe replace an input jack or two and *fingers crossed*, it works. Whew… see, now that’s what I wanted him to say in the first place! Even though he didn’t guarantee success, I was still really happy and optimistic.
So I went to work the following Monday and we were discussing our weekends around the lunch table (thanks guys!). It was my turn and I started telling the above story. But instead of saying I was mopey and bummed out, I said… and I quote “Worst friend ever.” Well, The Token Skeptic jumped all over that.
“Really? He’s the worst friend ever just because he couldn’t fix something for you?” “Yes, yes he is” and then I told everyone the part about how he called me a couple hours later and told me he could fix it (see, optimistic!). Of course she rolled her eyes (and possibly squinted) at my flaw-gic… but that’s pretty much standard. This was roughly 8 months ago.
The other day, I was conversing with The Token Skeptic and I mentioned Dave. And she said “Don’t you mean the worst friend ever?” and I was like “What?!? No!!!! Dave is … great… … he’s a … great friend…” By this time, I could tell by the look on her face that I was missing something. I start thinking real hard but have no idea how she would be led to believe that Dave is the worst friend ever. And then I recall the lunch time conversation and I burst out laughing and say “Yeah, that’s right… that Dave. Worst friend ever!”
P.S. Dave you are not the worst friend ever. You are a great friend and I love you very much.
P.P.S. My sink is leaking.
Big thanks to EliseArt for providing illustrations!!