Official Luthiers Forum!

I had a good laugh when I saw this in the other post.



Mine...

Its a beautiful sunny day. Light breeze. Not a cloud in the sky.
Spraying cat poly outside to avoid the fumes indoors..
A beautiful curly maple back and sides stained perfectly to pop the grain, heavy bearclaw top...

And there is a curious little bird hopping around watching you work...
And each evening.. As you finish cleaning out the gun - you look at your work - which looked perfect as you were doing it.. And there are all the little bits of bark, hair, pollen, grass, and bugs everywhere.... And it all has to come back off...

But the weather forcast for tomorrow looks perfect.. 70 degrees... Sunny.. Light breeze...

How about something like this with a fine bug mesh to close the opening and a fan ducted into the back?
https://www.wagnerspraytech.com/products/paint-sprayers/spray-tent/

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The name catgut is confusing. There are two explanations for the mix up.

Catgut is an abbreviation of the word cattle gut. Gut strings are made from sheep or goat intestines, in the past even from horse, mule or donkey intestines.

Otherwise it could be from the word kitgut or kitstring. Kit meant fiddle, not kitten.

While UPS delivers almost everywhere - I am not sure they deliver to hell.

They probably do - but every package is damaged and they won't accept a claim...

So one day who should show up at the Pearly Gates but the soul of the great Stradivari. St. Peter looks up the data base, and finds that they have nothing on him. All he ever did was make fiddles, so, on the one hand, he never did anything to warrant damnation, but then, on the other hand, he never did much to advance his spiritual state either. Not knowing where to put him. Peter appeals to a Higher Authority, and the word comes down that he is to be shown the alternatives, and given his choice. So an angel is assigned to show him around heaven.

It's pretty nice; sort of like Club Med but it never shows up on your credit card. At the end they come to a low building with lots of windows, and when they go it it's violin maker's shop, all set up and ready, with the tools sharp and the glue warm. "So...", says the angel, "if you come to heaven this will be your shop. You can work here through eternity, discovering the secrets of that craft you loved in life. Whenever a good violinist comes to heaven, they will play your instruments: they will be played in the Heavenly Choir before the Throne of God; what more could a man want?" But, Strad's a business man; that last luthier to die rich. He wants to see the counter offer before he makes up his mind. So it's off to hell, where a devil conducts the tour.

There's no getting around it: it's grim. Finally they come to a sort of quieter corner of hell where it's not so hot, and there's a low building with lots of windows. It's a violin maker's shop, just like the one upstairs. "See.." says the devil, "whatever they've go we've got, AND, I can offer you two things they can't. In the first place, you know how fiddlers are: we're going to see a lot more good ones down here than they'll se up there. But secondly, and more important, the violin is, after all, the devil's instrument. I can tell you all the secrets of violin making; you won't have to work through eternity to find them out!"

Well, who could refuse. Strad shakes hands with the devil. Then the devil spends about forty-five minutes telling him everything he didn't already know about violin making.

As he finishes up, Strad is sitting there scratching his head. The devil asks: "Is there something I left out, something you didn't understand?" "No.." replies Strad, "its just that that I've got this nice shop. It's no hotter here than Cremona in the summer; I can get used to this. All of these good violinists are going to come by to play my instruments, and you've told me all the secrets of violin making: why is this hell?" And the devil shrugs and answers: "No wood!"

From Tom Knatt

^^^ THIS IS GENIUS! ^^^

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"Act your age, not your shoe size" - Prince

DHell delivers there......

Epic!

I can imagine Old Strad turning around and with a look of horror - he gazes upon a mountain of cracked Lyrachord bowls and bent aluminum necks stacked almost all the way to heaven... The devil claps a warm hand on his shoulder and winks as he says... "Well Strad, my boy.. Time to get going.. These cursed things won't fix themselves...."