My Dad and Organ Number Two
Well, really, it's organ number 3, but organ number one was traded off. So now I have two. It's a beautiful and immaculate instrument. It was taken from where it was installed new. It hasn't been moved around at all, it is spotless. The pictured model isn't mine, but it's identical in nearly every way, and is as nice.
It is a Hammond C3 Organ. It is very similar to the other C3 that I have.
I myself am a 1967 model, these are both a few years older than me. They are both younger than my dad. Now before you assault me with pressing my dad into servitude, I pleaded and begged with him not to help me. I tried in every way to be as easy with him as I was on this Hammond.
And the wonderful invention that is called the organ dolly eliminates heavy lifting.
But I literally could not have done it with out him. He has a way with a square knot that is unequaled. And I didn't want the organ to be banging around in the back of the Uhaul. These things weigh 500 lbs, with pedal organ and bench.
"Left over right, right over left."
That was a fun time, and even though he was a little sore, and still may be, he told me he had fun, too. I believe him.
It sort of reminds me of something keyboardist Keith Emerson of the band Emerson Lake and Palmer said about Hammond organs.
But it's kind of profane, so I'm not going to repeat it.
I had fun with my dad too. Generally when I'm moving such beasts, I am known to say a few choice words myself. Working with my dad made it much more enjoyable.
I guess we need to go fishing to pay him back. It's fun to visit, but it also fun to accomplish a task together, which we haven't done much since I left home.
Maybe that's why people go hunting.
My dad and I don't hunt. We both shot birds when we were little kids, and felt real bad about it, and never did it again.
When I was in junior high he bought me a BB gun, and we went out and shot beer bottles.
Not ours, but bottles that people left there.
Thanks Dad. Where's the best fishing?