Frets are in great shape with hardly any wear. Neck: Mahogany neck with rosewood fingerboard & cream side-dots. There was also just a tiny separation in the top seam that was professionally repaired by Veillette. There's a small finish blemish on the bottom of the body near the end pin. A few minor nicks, dings & mild surface scratches. Hand-carved bracing and a carefully refined design result in a tonally balanced, responsive, and truly original instrument.Ĭosmetic Condition: Excellent condition overall & very clean for the most part. The unison courses of the Gryphon 12 produce a rich natural chorus and depth that brings to mind mandolins, bouzoukis, quatros, and other traditional folk instruments - along with a powerful rhythm "chop". This unique range is made possible by its short scale length (18.5") and custom strings (gauges. The Gryphon is designed for D tuning (equivalent to the 10th fret of a standard guitar). Guitarists will love being able to play mandolin-style parts in a new high register, and even mandolin players will discover new horizons, including the ability to play guitar-like or fingerstyle patterns in a mandolin tonality and range. I get to pull up to an assignment and happily shut off the engine.What makes this guitar special: Celestial, sparkling highs and punchy mid-register give the Gryphon unique cut and punch and an unusually wide range of applications. I get to put on my credentials, drive to the stadium and creatively explain what we all saw out there. That’s why these precious Saturdays are important to me. Sidelines and coaches and recruits are far away, and so too is that old dream of covering sports alongside those magnificent jerks that live in the press box. You’re in courtrooms talking to lawyers and at crime scenes chatting up neighbors. Then you wake up one morning and you’re a legal columnist at a metropolitan daily.
One day you’re the sports editor at your college paper, the next you’re a business editor in Colorado. I wanted to be a sportswriter and travel, write and interact with my readers.īut journalism is strange. The profession brings together wordsmiths, misfits and sarcastic smart asses - and sometimes a combination of the three.
They have to write in a way that not only engages an audience but provides valuable insight. Sportswriters have to be skeptical of coaches who feed canned quotes. They use their access to string together articles that somehow go beyond the action. They have to bring something different to a game that many had the chance watch. You see, sportswriters are a creative, hardworking lot. We share inside jokes, and sometimes some of it ends up on Twitter. Matt Vautour, Dan Malone, George Miller, Mark Chiarelli - sometimes Howard Herman shows up - and the Collegian guys are all there. That happy quilt will get folded up for the season on Saturday night.Īfter those parking-lot moments, I go and see my colleagues. Sizzling food, well-worn jerseys, greying friends, kids running post routes - stop for a moment and take it all in. I had those conversations at Notre Dame, Wisconsin, Michigan, Penn State and back home at Gillette Stadium and crummy old McGuirk. I show up with friends, and I talk to fans at tailgates about how Old State U is doing this year. That moment is why I enjoy covering college football.įor a few hours during a handful of Saturdays, I get to enjoy one of America’s great experiences. That’s when you turn the key and shut off the ignition. You want to join everyone else that gets to unwittingly walk past the story, read it in the paper, and say: “My goodness.” There are times when you find yourself sitting in your truck, right outside an assignment, and every part of you wants to drive away. It’s uncomfortably random, and often it leads you to places that you would normally want to run from. A woman who survived a near-death experience told me her story through tears. I’ve been in the living rooms of grieving parents. I took notes in federal court when a jury sentenced their cowardly attacker to death. I spoke to Boston Marathon bombing survivors. DraftKings’ CEO told me he had no time for questions as I chased him out of a conference. I sat a few yards away from Tom Brady in court during the Deflategate fiasco. An angry crowd pointed and booed at me and my colleagues at the behest of Republican firebrand Donald Trump. Moments before Scott Brown conceded in New Hampshire, I sat next to a Washington Post reporter and talked college basketball. I walked through Lowell’s Cambodian neighborhood after a massive fire killed seven and left dozens homeless. I was there - two rows back - when Aaron Hernandez was found guilty of murder.
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