Recently, I got a job. I’m going to be a welder.
Not really. Actually, I have a very lazy left eye and a highly dominant right eye, and the one profession the optometrist urged me to steer clear of is welding. I’ve never totally understood that. Couldn’t I, theoretically, lose an eye in any profession? I mean, life can be pretty rough, even for non-welders.
Anyway. I am copy-editing and proofreading guitar pedal descriptions for a website. JHS Music, to be precise. Scuttlebutt in my basement and other places rock & roll is, they’re the best. These pedals make all the other pedals look like you bought them at Toys-R-Us. If you bought these pedals, all your other pedals would be so embarrassed by their weakness, they’d commit gear suicide, just to get away from your pedal board.
So I’m working about 2 hours a day, editing, which translates to about 6 hours a day, taking breaks every 45 seconds to break up a toddler fight or save Tristan from himself. Tristan particularly likes hanging over my shoulder, puking down my back as I tweak paragraphs.
I’ve been married to a guitarist for about 30 years, so I have had plenty of opportunity to learn how to talk about guitars. I read one pedal description in a magazine, years ago, that said “This pedal screams like a banshee and purrs like a kitten.” Magic, that.
So far, I’m just editing written content, not writing any of my own. I’m thinking of them, though. Stuff like, “This tone’s such a monster, you’ll have to call the Pentagon to shut it down…”
“This reverb will make you feel like Julie Stinking Andrews, yodeling on a Swiss mountaintop…”
There’s more where that came from, folks. But first, I should probably get back to editing. Because you people don’t pay me.