A question I think most bass players will know the answer to ...

@two fingers , my post-divorce story is just a little different. There was a young man who lived in a garden apartment diagonally across a small parking lot from my place. He decided, one Sunday afternoon, to bring his bass combo onto his front patio and serenade the neighborhood. He was new at it, and unskilled.

After a half hour of wanking, I decided to position my GK 400RB and the 2x10 + 1x15 cabs in my front doorway (faced his patio directly), plugged in, and played about 30 seconds of Duran Duran’s White Lines cover. Then closed my front door.

Message delivered. He packed up.

A couple of years later, the cops shut the complex down because he was holed up in his family’s apartment holding a gun on his family after he committed an armed robbery. He eventually surrendered, and the family moved out in the middle of the night soon afterwards.

I love my adopted state, but FloriDUH is a thing here.
But did he ever get any good at playing bass?
 
@two fingers , my post-divorce story is just a little different. There was a young man who lived in a garden apartment diagonally across a small parking lot from my place. He decided, one Sunday afternoon, to bring his bass combo onto his front patio and serenade the neighborhood. He was new at it, and unskilled.

After a half hour of wanking, I decided to position my GK 400RB and the 2x10 + 1x15 cabs in my front doorway (faced his patio directly), plugged in, and played about 30 seconds of Duran Duran’s White Lines cover. Then closed my front door.

Message delivered. He packed up.

A couple of years later, the cops shut the complex down because he was holed up in his family’s apartment holding a gun on his family after he committed an armed robbery. He eventually surrendered, and the family moved out in the middle of the night soon afterwards.

I love my adopted state, but FloriDUH is a thing here.
Cool! Another great "Florida Man" story.
 
Open A. A on the E string doesn't do it for some reason.

Right after my divorce from my first wife I lived in an apartment. It was mainly a college apartment complex and I was almost 30.

Upstairs lived a couple of skinhead rappers. Yes, you read that correctly. They would "practice" at "odd" hours.

I owned two vehicles. I had politely warned them to check the parking lot for my two vehicles before beginning their "practice". They seemed to understand..... but they didn't.

So, I was playing a lot of gigs at that time that ran late. I would get home around 4 or 5 a.m. After one such gig, and several warnings to the idiots upstairs, I decided to strike back.

I hooked up my Ampeg SVT III and Isovent cab (two 10s and two 15s) and let it eat. I played for about a half hour. (The building was new and we were the only two occupants at the time.)

I was told by one of their friends that lots of stuff fell down in their apartment. A skull candle fell off of the fridge and broke. And I never heard another peep out of those dipsticks.

Hmm, that's cool that they were actually capable of learning a lesson. I feel like if I tried this I'd get the type of guys that were too stubborn and "skinhead-y" to not quit (or make wanna be tough guy threats at me for that matter)..
 
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