We now return to our irregular saga of Kurt’s Freshman Year Cross-Country Running Log, to examine an entry that has nothing to do with cross-country.
It is Aug. 31, 1987. The school year hasn’t started yet, but I am already letting my mind wander on a subject that occupied plenty of time during my hours in class.
If I had a dime for every guitar or bass I sketched on my folders, textbook covers and homework assignments between seventh and twelfth grades, I wouldn’t have had to go to college.
I’ve always been fascinated by guitars. (Electric; always electric. Acoustics have never held the same appeal. They’re not the same kind of sleek and shiny and curvy. Also, they distort poorly.)
That didn’t stop me from doodling them by the dozen — Strats, Les Pauls and the occasional hollow-bodied 335 — on any empty surface I could find while I complied with whatever educational demand was being placed upon me.
Guitars always seemed sexier than basses back then. But since I was a bass player then, I occasionally gave in to the invisible pressure and drew a bass guitar instead.
That’s what we’ve got in the log entry above. It appears to be a right-handed Fender Precision with a left-handed neck. An unlikely confection, but sure, why not?
Not sure why I didn’t finish stringing this one up. Usually I did.
School started the following week. Maybe I figured I’d have time enough then to get my drawings right.