Frigid and Wet, To Wet and Wet, Thus Refret To Regret

 So the Colorado winter gave way to a short burst of sunshine, then a torrent of daily rain unheard of for the region. Like April came and decided to stick around for three months. The streams are too swollen to chase the trout. The trails are too muddy to get out on the bike. Thus:

MORE TINKER TIME!!!

The newest project: 

1985 Peavey Patriot Refret To Regret!

This was my first real bass, not the very first that I owned, but the first that I really learned on, gigged on, and knew I would never give up. Even when I bought it well used for $200, it was pretty much ready for a refret. But I just kept hammering away at it, filing away a buzz here and there (who cares when it's mostly punk?) and finally switching to a different bass when I just couldn't adjust it to the wear anymore. The biggest problem? I would have to file the nut slots so deep because of the nubs of fret left that the nut would just split in half under the string pressure.

Even Elvis hung his head in shame at the condition of this bass.

Now, I didn't want to just sell this off, although it's valued at quite a bit more than I paid. And I didn't want it to just sit unplayed. It is a bass I will play until it is pried from my cold dead hands. But to pay for a refret? They are somewhere between $350-$500. Cost benefit analysis is a great way to justify some good ol' don't know what the fuck I'm doing tinkering. Let the slaughter begin!

First to the slaughter, however, is a sacrificial lamb. Since I wanted some fret-pulling practice, I pulled out an old $40 pawn shop P-bass copy I bought a few years ago just for such purposes.

I had already painted the face of the headstock, and butchered the neck joint in an attempt to fit a Squier neck in there. So I had nothing to lose, just fret-pulling experience to gain. 

There are a plethora of fret-pulling videos on the Youtube. The things most had in common were good fret pulling nippers, heating the frets with a soldering iron, and using something (usually painter's tape) to protect the fretboard. Let me tell you, these frets pulled out faster than a germaphobe with a broken condom.

As you see in the first picture, I tried using fret polishing guards, but they were too thick and spaced the fret pullers too far from the surface. The tape worked just fine, with very few chips. If only I knew what false confidence this practice had given me!

With that as my cliffhanger, let me update just one thing: I did end up using the Harmony as wall art (and recorded one song) for a couple months.

Then I traded it in for something I've always wanted, a Gretsch! Not just any Gretsch, but pretty much the cheapest one out there. I like it lots. I have a feeling it is going to be a gateway Gretsch, a Gretsch to stretch. I like the shorter scale, the flatter fretboard, the nice tall frets, and the bitey pickups. It's girthy and hearty and scary fun, like a busty tattooed gal on roller skates who calls you a bitch because you don't want to share her lipstick-stained cigarette.

Here's me having an epic open-mic fail the day I bought it. That's a story for another time, my friends.

Next Up: Old Lacquer and Old Liquor