I miss my amp

I should have known better--when you have a vintage tube amp that is on the fritz, take it to real repair professionals, not some L/A wannabes. Well, actually that would be unfair. The store where I dropped my buzzing Fender off at have been in business in Lewiston for decades, it's just that they don't appear to have a clue when it comes to repairs.

I knew in my heart, I should have taken it to Buckdancer's Choice, in Portland, but I thought it would be a hassle going into Portland three weekends ago and the music store in Lewiston told me that their amp guy could get it done--they also warned me that he was backed up.

So here I am, three weeks later, jonesing to plug in my electric and growing sick of the laid back sounds of my trusty Yamaha acoustic. The only solace I'm feeling tonight is that I wacked my left thumb with a hammer, driving nails on Saturday and couldn't hold a guitar if I wanted to tonight, or for several nights for that matter. Why is it that every time I start to build up momentum with my guitar playing, something inevitably gets in the way? Just when I had started to learn a few songs and didn't have to plod my way through the changes, once more, the reality that I'm never going to taste musical fame and fortune gets shoved in my face (heck, just becoming proficient on the guitar would be fine at this point).

Well, it looks like I'll have to wait a bit longer to plug in and make some noise again--maybe my amp will be ready by the weekend?