Will the Lacey Act Criminalize Instrument Sales?
Not bass-specific, but certainly worth pondering:
Will the Lacey Act Criminalize Instrument Sales?
International Trade Commission Invites You to Weigh In
(Source: Music Trades Magazine) A recent amendment to the Lacey Act, which requires buyers and sellers to document of the source and species of wood used in any product or face serious legal consequences, has alarmed the music industry worldwide. Last year agents from the FBI and the Fish, Game, & Wildlife Department raided the Gibson factory in Nashville and seized allegedly undocumented wood. The consensus among other guitar makers was that “if Gibson could be targeted, then everyone is at risk.” The U.S. International Trade Commission, recognizing the problems created by the Lacey Act as currently written, is planning to appeal to Congress to revise the law.
Senior Trade Analyst Ralph Watkins is heading the effort, and is interested in hearing from anyone in the industry about problems with the law. He can be contacted at: 202-205-3492 or Ralph.watkins@usitc.gov.
Thumb position question
Here’s a question from an overseas reader–feel free to chime in with some advice in the comments to this post:
I’m not really sure what is the right way, to avoid injuries and other stuff, how to hold the bass in thumb position.
My teacher says holding the neck on your shoulder blade can cause some trouble but on the other hand, is there another way to stabilize the bass in that position?
The limping neck – gig story from Deborah Lamb
Here’s the next “worst gig ever” submission in our series, this time from double bassist Deborah Lamb. Deborah is a double bassist and music education student (awesome!) at the University of Oklahoma.
This story is the latest submission for the Upton bass pickup raffle. If you’d like to be a contestant in the raffle, just email me your worst gig story (either personal or second-hand is fine) by March 15. You can send them to jasonheath -at- doublebassblog.org.
Gig Story from Deborah Lamb
Here at The University of Oklahoma (OU), I play in various ensembles. Some required of me, some just for my own enjoyment. Wind Symphony is just that!
Two weeks ago the OU Wind Symphony had a concert, and we were going to play David Maslanka’s 4th Symphony, which requires A LOT of bass and has some very exposed parts. David Maslanka was there for the concert, so the pressure was REALLY on. During the day of the concert, I wanted to make some improvements on my bass to get more sound out of it. So, I took it to my apartment to accomplish the task.
My uncle, who comes to every concert, wanted to take me out to dinner that night to celebrate my recent birthday. Around 5:30 I loaded up my bass in my car and headed back to the music building to meet him. After parking in the parking garage, I usually take the stairs down unless I’m on the 3rd or 4th level of the parking garage. I had parked on the second level. Seeing as how I live up a flight of stairs, I saw no problem taking just one flight down to ground level. While going down the stairs, I put my foot where a stair should’ve been, and it wasn’t. I then fell down 6 stairs, injuring both of my knees and my left elbow.
I gathered myself together (with the help of some very nice strangers) and headed into the music building. Noticing the top of the bass was limping down, my heart sank into my stomach- I knew then and there what happened. The scroll broke completely in half and everything had collapsed. Not caring about my injuries or my crazy crying over what happened, I needed a GOOD bass- I had a concert to play in after all, and I didn’t want to let anyone down with this incident!
I found a master key, broke into my bass professors office, and stole a bass from one of our graduate students. I played through the concert on a bass I had never laid my hands on before with two injured knees and an injured elbow. I had never been so proud of myself in my life. I definitely earned my scholarship that night!
-Debby Lamb
Music Education Student at the University of Oklahoma
Norman, OK
The grayest of all hounds – gig story from Kells Nollenberger
Here’s the next “worst gig ever” submission in our series, this time from double bassist Kells Nollenberger. Currently based out of Boulder, Colorado, Kells and I know each other from DePaul University when he was living in Chicago a few years back. He’s a great guy and is filled with great stories (as you can see below), and he contributed a fabulous interview with Steve Rodby for Contrabass Conversations a couple of years ago.
This story is the latest submission for the Upton bass pickup raffle. If you’d like to be a contestant in the raffle, just email me your worst gig story (either personal or second-hand is fine) by March 15. You can send them to jasonheath -at- doublebassblog.org.
Gig Story from Kells Nollenberger
(This story is already giving me nightmares, by the way…)
It was the summer of 2000 and I had just finished high school in the northern suburbs of Chicago. Soon, I would be heading off to college to study music with my 100-year-old Czech bass that I had recently purchased from A440 Violin Shop. I bought the bass in the classic American fashion, by accruing massive debt. I didn’t care though, I was officially a bass player and I was loving it.
That same summer I was chosen to perform at the Texas Educators Conference with an All-Star College Big Band. There were going to be clinics and musicians from other states and free hotel rooms in San Antonio! My father agreed to buy me a plane ticket to the event for $350. Soon after I convinced him to pay for the flight, I found out that I could take the bus to San Antonio for only $150. My father agreed to let me keep the difference if I took the bus instead. $200!!! It was only a 22-hour bus ride, how bad could it possibly be? The prospect of sitting in a bus and making $5/hr seemed better than going out and trying to find a job that summer. Plus, the bus provided an added benefit in moving the bass. I figured that I would have a much easier time getting my bass on a bus than on a plane.
So my plan was hatched. I called Greyhound and gave them the dimensions of the hard double bass case that I was planning on borrowing from my high school. The woman on the phone informed me that there was no size limit on luggage, just a weight requirement of a 100 pounds. Her conformation was all I needed and I showed up the next week at the bus stop in downtown Chicago with my mom and a comically large instrument.
When I arrived at the gate, the Greyhound employees did not seem happy to see my seven-foot tall friend. They insisted that anything that big had to be sent through the shipping department and could not be put under the bus. We wandered over to the shipping department. Walking around with a hard-shell bass case can make you feel as if you have a large growth on the side of your head. Everyone just quietly stops what they are doing and stares, minding their words carefully. Naturally, the people in the shipping department also wanted nothing to do with me. It is around the time that you turn 18 and become an adult that you realize new things about your parents and that day I found out that my mom is an awesome “bad cop.” She was not going to take “no” for an answer. She started yelling, and I tried to look as pathetic as possible. One of the greatest weapons that you have as a traveling bass player is that people will do whatever it takes to make you someone else’s problem. The man in shipping department insisted that if we returned to the main terminal and informed everyone that I was a professional musician and the bass was essential to my livelihood then they would have no choice but to be accommodating. So we headed back to the terminal and after several more rounds of academy award winning “good cop, bad cop”, we managed to get my bass into the belly of a greyhound bus.
Once the baggage door was closed, I hugged my mother and made my way up to the bus door. The bus driver stopped me before entering. There was no room left on the bus for me. My brain went crazy. Should I try to get my bass back out of the bus? Would it take another two hours of yelling to get it into another bus? I couldn’t handle that. So I watched as the bus pulled out of the terminal. The bass that was leaving in the bus had a value that I could barely understand. I had not worked enough hours in my life to pay for the item that I had just lost control of. It had taken me several years just to raise enough money to have a down payment.
The next bus to San Antonio arrived shortly and it too was packed with people. I somehow managed to get on board to begin my 22-hour journey. The seat next to me was full for almost the entire ride. Mothers with their babies screaming, cowboys sleeping on my shoulder, air conditioning that barely worked: these were the least of my worries. Each time the bus stopped the bus driver would announce over the intercom and kindly remind the crowd, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please make sure that any and all of your luggage remains in the bus that you are traveling on. Greyhound can not be held responsible for any luggage that is not on your bus.” I tried to fall asleep.
We arrived in San Antonio and I jumped out of the bus looking for my bass. I looked all around the inside of the terminal. There was no sign of it and it’s not the kind of item that can easily blend into its surroundings. Having been unable to find it inside the terminal, I desperately rushed outside and could not believe what I saw. All seven feet of bass case sitting up on its own in the middle of the parking lot. I still have no idea what it was doing out there. I can only assume that someone saw the unclaimed instrument, and thought to themselves, “Maybe I should give the bass a try?” After carrying the instrument one hundred feet, they must have decided that it simply was not worth it.
Here comes the rain – gig story from Eric Hochberg
Here’s the next “worst gig ever” submission in our series, this time from double bassist Eric Hochberg. Eric is located here in metro Chicago and has contributed several times to doublebassblog.org in the past (as well as being a part of the quite successful 2010 Chicago Bass Festival).
This story is the latest submission for the Upton bass pickup raffle. If you’d like to be a contestant in the raffle, just email me your worst gig story (either personal or second-hand is fine) by March 15. You can send them to jasonheath -at- doublebassblog.org.
Gig Story from Eric Hochberg
My band was scheduled to play at a private residence in Glencoe, IL (tony Chicago suburb) for a reception on a Saturday afternoon. It was a beautiful summer day when we arrived at the house. When I enquired where we would be setting up, I was told by the boat dock. When I asked where the boat dock was, I was directed to a tram that went up and down a ravine from the dock on Lake Michigan to the residence. Ok, pretty weird, I thought, but manageable. So, my bandmates and I made a few trips getting our equipment down to the lake on the tram. When we got there I realized there was no covering for us to play under, ( a usual requirement for outdoor gigs), but being a sunny clear day, I thought nothing of it and we set up.
The guests started to arrive and we began playing. By the middle of our second tune I see a bit of blackness over the water out in the distance and for the next five minutes or so it gets blacker and closer. I’m getting a little worried at this point, but we keep playing, until you guessed it, we’re in the middle of a thunderstorm. Naturally, the guests were all rushing to the tram and stairs to get back up to the house. We were stuck on the deck, out in the open with no cover and all of our gear. I noticed a small shed that I opened and found a nasty old tarp in, so, we gathered our instruments and sound equipment in a pile and covered them along with our tuxedo clad selves under that funky tarp (complete with dirt, spider webs and leaking holes) until the rain stopped about 20 minutes later. What a damn mess!
We made it back up the ravine, packed up our cars and when our employer came out to say that she would like us to meet them at a restaurant in town to continue the “party”, I told them our equipment was more than likely damaged by the rain and we wouldn’t be able to make it… I guess she didn’t notice our rain soaked tuxes, either!
Eric Hochberg
www.erichochberg.com
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