#howtonot — Public Fediverse posts

Playing the bass, discover a new weird buzz. Not coming from the pickup, the amp, it's... coming from the body of the bass? Is it shorting out? WTF.

Poke at it, discover a thin layer of peeled plastic has come up off the pickup, and at long range of motion on the low E, is getting touched, making a bizarre noise.

Do I want this noise? Maybe. Does it muck up what I'm currently (badly) playing? Very much so.

Squeeze my too-small-for-bass-guitar fingers under the strings. No blood yet. Maybe I can... index and ring finger together, grip it. It peels down onto the front face of the bass.

It is at this point I realize the bass, which I nabbed a while back, shipped with a protective peelable plastic, which *somehow* has been heat applied over the pickups, over the face of the bass, over everything.

I. Peel. The plastic.

Strings are in the way, I frowst about under them like a fox in a too-small wuzzy. There is a trivial but increasing flow of blood. I pause for a cloth and then a layer of super glue. There is no super glue in the house.

There is no styptic powder in the house.

I emit sounds of dubious intelligence – grunts – and proceed to go about my business anyway. Eventually, with some small consequence, the entire face of the base is clear of protective plastic. Like a newly skun phone-face, it looks much better. Excepting, I suppose, the slight smears of blood. A cleaning takes place, a disinfecting, during which I consider whether bass guitars might become contagious. And whether I’ve had enough sleep for this sort of thing or not.

Back to playing.

The buzz is worse. There are two new buzzes. I turn on the proper light and discover the grippers for the pickups have gripped the protective plastic some. I emit a further sound of dubious intelligence, waking the Big Smart Dog, who demands walkies. I’ve just cleaned this, I’m no longer a leaky mess, I’m not cramming my fingers in under there again.

Tweezers? Chop sticks? Wait.

Fire.

I take both the bass and the BSD outside. I use a stick lighter to burn the plastic, much to the disgust of the BSD, and emit yet another sound. I like to think this one is vaguely smarter than the others, but it’s still a grunt. The BSD grunts back.

We go for a walk, mostly with me playing the bass, but sometimes in the dark and narrow paths, the trees do too. Coming back in, I find my freshly beautified bass has experienced pine tar. I decide it adds character and resist setting it on fire.

* * *

#bass #guitar #HowToNot #buzz

Playing the bass, discover a new weird buzz. Not coming from the pickup, the amp, it's... coming from the body of the bass? Is it shorting out? WTF.

Poke at it, discover a thin layer of peeled plastic has come up off the pickup, and at long range of motion on the low E, is getting touched, making a bizarre noise.

Do I want this noise? Maybe. Does it muck up what I'm currently (badly) playing? Very much so.

Squeeze my too-small-for-bass-guitar fingers under the strings. No blood yet. Maybe I can... index and ring finger together, grip it. It peels down onto the front face of the bass.

It is at this point I realize the bass, which I nabbed a while back, shipped with a protective peelable plastic, which *somehow* has been heat applied over the pickups, over the face of the bass, over everything.

I. Peel. The plastic.

Strings are in the way, I frowst about under them like a fox in a too-small wuzzy. There is a trivial but increasing flow of blood. I pause for a cloth and then a layer of super glue. There is no super glue in the house.

There is no styptic powder in the house.

I emit sounds of dubious intelligence – grunts – and proceed to go about my business anyway. Eventually, with some small consequence, the entire face of the base is clear of protective plastic. Like a newly skun phone-face, it looks much better. Excepting, I suppose, the slight smears of blood. A cleaning takes place, a disinfecting, during which I consider whether bass guitars might become contagious. And whether I’ve had enough sleep for this sort of thing or not.

Back to playing.

The buzz is worse. There are two new buzzes. I turn on the proper light and discover the grippers for the pickups have gripped the protective plastic some. I emit a further sound of dubious intelligence, waking the Big Smart Dog, who demands walkies. I’ve just cleaned this, I’m no longer a leaky mess, I’m not cramming my fingers in under there again.

Tweezers? Chop sticks? Wait.

Fire.

I take both the bass and the BSD outside. I use a stick lighter to burn the plastic, much to the disgust of the BSD, and emit yet another sound. I like to think this one is vaguely smarter than the others, but it’s still a grunt. The BSD grunts back.

We go for a walk, mostly with me playing the bass, but sometimes in the dark and narrow paths, the trees do too. Coming back in, I find my freshly beautified bass has experienced pine tar. I decide it adds character and resist setting it on fire.

* * *

#bass #guitar #HowToNot #buzz