Thanks for the update! Those are some weird results. I don’t think tape temperature would matter - there is so little mass there that, even if it was warm when you put it on, it wouldn’t have an appreciable effect on the temperature of the handle, and I would think that its temperature would equalize pretty quickly… but maybe a minute isn’t long enough for that?

You may have addressed this already, but does the door have an electric lock?

Damn. I just realized I haven’t had sautéed (or grilled) zucchini in ages. I’ll change that tomorrow.

“Have you seriously never heard of amy winehouse”

Hahaha

I hear you on pop music. I haven’t listened to radio by choice for 30ish years for the same reason.

That is a really cool soundscape. I didn’t find it repetitive at all (but I see why you described it that way). I really like the tapping part.

With everything played on bass, I would expect the instruments to blend together a lot and the song to sound a bit muddy, but it doesn’t at all. The instruments are really distinct and it’s all really clean. I’m impressed by the engineering you must have done in recording this.

Not fretless, but give this a listen: Vincen Garcia - Aprieta

The man is on another plane of existence. Hopefully watching it will give you a momentary repreive from the pit of despair you’re stuck in; I know it helps me.

If I send you a genuine-imitation-platinum-star bassist pin, will you promise to wear it whenever you play?

Alright, you got me out of my comfy bed to grab my headphones :)

…

I don’t really listen to metal, but am always impressed with the talent I see when I do. Cool outro; thanks for sharing.

Here’s one in the complete opposite direction: Diamonds on the Souls of Her Shoes (Alternate Version) from Graceland by Paul Simon’s. The song is just fretless bass and vocals. The rendition is simple and absolutely gorgeous. Bakithi Kumalo is the bassist on the album and he is incredible throughout. Give ‘You Can Call Me Al’ a listen if you want to hear him do some mind bending shit.

The Graceland album brings me right back to my childhood every time I hear it… and it is the origin of my love for the sound of fretless bass.

A gold star bassist, nice!

I played quite a bit of bass in my early days. I wasn’t good, but at least I could get in the groove and play. For the last 15+ years I’ve played acoustic guitar almost exclusively.

I’ve learned that playing bass is nothing like riding a bike—whenever I do pick it back up it, I feel like a total beginner. It’s shown me just how different bass is from six string. The instruments are extremely similar but played so differently.

OPs a phony! Those aren’t guitars! The one on the left doesn’t even have frets!

I love the sound of fretless bass. I’ve never played one but it’s been on my “I should learn that” list for about as long as I’ve played guitar (almost 30 years… fuck i’m old). I’m already a hack when it comes to playing bass, which makes the idea of learning fretless that much more intimidating.

It makes sense that you are still affected by the relationship and grieving its loss. You slowly went from a loving partnership in which you worked together and supported each other to one in which you were carrying all the weight and asking for help while you watched the relationship crumble. It’s confusing as hell and makes you doubt yourself in so many ways.

You know the relationship needed to end. At the same time you probably feel like you gave up because you weren’t strong enough to fix it, and like you abandoned them when they needed you to keep them going… and also wonder if they ever really loved you and were using you this whole time.

It would be easier to accept and move on if there was a clear reason the relationship failed. Instead, the relationship failed for a bunch of reasons, none of which are big enough to have killed the relationship on their own, but together were more than enough.

You did the right thing. You weren’t too weak. You didn’t just give up. You tried your hardest. It is impossible to fix a relationship alone and they were unable to put in the effort… which really sucks because it makes you feel like they just didn’t care about you.

It seems clear to me that they did (and I assume do) care about you. They were servely depressed for a long time, using unhealthy coping mechanisms, and unable to participate in the relationship. It sucks to leave someone who is depressed, but at a certain point you had to (and did) realize that you were unable to make them better and that you were going to drown trying to keep them floating.

It sucks to be where you are now, but it would suck even worse if you were still together. Even though it feels like it has taken too long to rebuild your life (it hasn’t) and like you aren’t getting anywhere (you are), you will get there.

It’s the late 90s. I’m 13 years old, living with my family in an old house out in the sticks. I’m home alone late at night (a very uncommon occurrence) and I put on the movie Full Metal Jacket, which I had never seen before.

Spoilers ahead (Do I need to call out spoilers for a movie made 40 years ago?)

The main character, “Joker,” is in boot camp. While on night watch, he finds a squad mate, “Pyle,” sitting on the toilet holding his rifle. Pyle is slow and has been getting bullied throughout the movie. He puts a magazine in his rifle and says some creepy shit… he has clearly lost it. Joker tries to talk him down, then gets the drill instructor. The drill instructor yells at Pyle. Pyle smiles, then shoots the drill instructor dead. He points the rifle at Joker then sits back down on the toilet, puts the barrel in his mouth, and blows his brains out.

I’m not exaggerating here: the power goes off at that exact moment; I see a close up of Pyle blowing his brains out all over the tile wall behind him then everything goes black… pitch black. Like I said, I’m in the sticks. There are no streetlights or nearby houses providing any light, and not much moonlight; It’s all just darkness.

Im 13, alone, and freaked out. I can’t see shit and don’t know where a flashlight is. I stumble around for a while and finally find one. Old house bonus: the house has a crusty old fuse box, not a circuit breaker, and the fuse box is outside. I find a fuse and muster up the courage to go out there. I go out to the creepy, spider infested corner where fuse box is, find some more courage (or maybe desperation), and start swapping fuses in the hopes that one is blown. I just about start crying with relief when I find the right one and the lights pop on.

I did not finish the movie that night.