But before I share these really cool stuffs with you, I just want to make it clear that I am not a materialistic guy. I have come to terms with my own poverty long ago and have learned to accept how some things are too impractical or simply put, too expensive for me to own. But every once in a while great bargains come your way that coincides with birthdays, a loving wife, and celestial alignments that directly or indirectly influences ones current reality, making rare purchases like these possible...
Acquisition Number One. After years of having to settle for a free URL that’s long and rather difficult to memorize, I am now the proud owner of my own web address: HARINGULAN.COM! Yes, I now belong to the social elite of registered domain name owners! For the meantime it still pointing to this page until I come around getting my personal website built, but accessing this page is just way easier and not to forget way cooler to advertise now. The fun doesn’t stop there; another really neat thing about it is that as part of the package I got from registering the domain, I now also have my own personalized email! Now how cool is that! So if you have this page bookmarked on your favorites, you can update that now to haringulan.com!
Acquisition Number Two. If you’ve read one of my posts a few months ago, you would recall how frustrated I was having drooled over that romanticized red Ibanez AFS Artcore series guitar I tested in this music store along EDSA. To further torment myself, I actually even printed a picture of the guitar and hung it on my workstation panel with the words, “You will be mine someday” I scribbled at the bottom of the page. Well guess what, someday came sooner than later! Yes, I was able to acquire The Lady in Red at an amazing price! I now have my own semi hollow jazzbox guitar that I have dreamed about for the last couple of years!
And what perfect timing too, there was a recent battle of the bands competition held last week in the office, which I joined along with a few friends from another account. Out of the seven bands that did join, we got as far as the final three. We didn’t make it all the way to the finals but it was alright knowing that at least we didn’t suck the most. And more than that, I was again able to play live music, and this time using my very own instrument.
Of course as the tire old cliché goes, money can’t buy happiness. Material things are temporal and shallow because true bliss can only come from… Hmmm, wait. You know what, I’m going to cut myself short here. Money CAN buy happiness!!! Boy it really can! Hehehe.
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I went back to the music store where my guitar was sold. I came there to purchase this really awesome Gator hard shell guitar case because man, I’ve got to protect my investment! I also came to check up on my Oscar Schmidt Washburn acoustic guitar that I had brought there a week before to have the string’s action adjusted.
As I was checking out the guitar’s new feel and playability, I did some basic bluesy riffs as the old store staff assisting me watched and listened. In the middle of my picking he asked me what music genre I usually play, naturally I said blues music. This led us into chatting about blues albums and artists that we listen to.
The store clerk, who was in his late 30s or early 40s amazingly knew or had every single album I mentioned. He even knew some of the really obscure blues songs I knew. We ended up swapping stories about our common passion until I realized I was in the store for a considerable amount of time.
Because I felt it was a perfect time to brag, I mentioned how I used to contribute blues album reviews for PULP magazine. He said he doesn’t read the publication regularly but remembered reading an article about Buddy Guy. He said he remembered it well because he appreciated how the article “spoke to him”.
“Ay Sir, ako po nagsulat nun” (Ah Sir, I was actually the one who wrote that piece”), I proudly said. He almost couldn’t believe it. So we ended up talking some more. As I was paying for the items I bought in the store he even followed me to the cashier just to ask me if I listened to several artists he was into.
I’ve accepted the fact that people who read PULP during the days I was contributing for the publication rarely noticed my articles. It’s just funny (though not surprising) how the first person to actually recognize my work turns out to be an old dude. That side job never was to be cool and popular with the ladies.