Restyling an Ugly Epiphone Les Paul Junior / Special, Part 3: Installing Gotoh Tuners

In Part 2 we created a "hybrid" Telecaster + Gibson style pickguard for the Ugly Epiphone Les Paul Junior - Special. This time, let's see what we can do to improve the looks of the headstock, while also getting a set of high quality tuning machines, which this guitar so far hasn't yet had.

When I first got this Epi Paul in a trade, it not only had been badly "reliced", but also had all black, low end hardware installed. The first thing I did was to remove all the cheapo pieces and throw them in a dumpster give them back to the previous owner. The tuners were a bit hard to remove. Really crappy quality low rent GFS brand stuff, I didn't even bother taking any pictures.

The original tuner holes had been enlarged with an electric hand drill to a US size just a bit too small for the metric sized machines, and they had been force-fit into place by torqueing down with a ratchet wrench. Ouch. Luthieristic violence. After removing the top nuts, pushing down on the tuner shafts with a thumb while holding the machine bodies and twisting did the trick, but left some divots in my thumb.

Once the tuners had been removed, this is what the headstock looked like:

As you can see, using an electric drill to enlarge tuning machine holes leaves some scars. More violent luthiery. I was going to use 10mm to vintage sized conversion bushings, but they wouldn't quite cover the paint chipping at the edges of the holes. That meant having nice vintagey Kluson style tuners wasn't going to happen. Knowing that cast tuner washers would cover the blow outs, I got a set of really nice Gotoh tuning machines with Grover style "butter bean" knobs:

As with many things made in Japan, these can be described as "Jewel Like". Or as I sometimes say about our MIJ Isuzu Oasis car, "Totally F---ing Precision". However, even though 10 x the quality of the previous GFS tuners, they also wouldn't fit into the raggedly enlarged tuner holes. Next step, put some blue painter's masking tape on either side of the headstock and press down to make sure the tape adheres to the finish well, then slice out the tape around both sides of each hole:

The reason for putting the blue painter's top around each tuner hole is to ensure that no further wood and finish chips or flakes off, which the original owner should have done.

Here's what we're going to use to slightly enlarge each tuner hole, an ancient round rasp "rat tail" file, Yankee engineering, made in New England some time in the previous century. Note that unlike files made for use on metals (which have smaller teeth), this particular file was specifically made for woodworking:

Instead of using a round file, the preferred luthier's tool in this case would be a violin peg hole reamer, but this file was on hand, and with judicious and gentle handling, it should get the job done. File slowly and evenly, with periodic checking with a tuner, to make sure only enough material is removed in order for a not too loose and not too tight fit:

I'll mention again that the filing be done slowly and carefully, on the down stroke only on each side pf the headstock (never towards you), and always bearing down on the wood closest to the side you're working on. If possible avoid filing on the opposite side, to minimize wood and finish chipping on that side.

And it worked. Forgot to take a picture of the holes after the tape was removed, and immediately placed all the tuning machines on and barely tightened the nuts, just enough to hold them during the next step:

Let's talk about the placement of the machines. Usually, a factory install on Epiphone guitars has all the tuners with their shafts parallel to each other. Which is good for guitars that have straight sides on the headstock, such as Fender and Martin. On a curvaceous Epiphone headstock, this results in making it very hard, sometimes impossible, to use a string winder - the winder keeps banging into the headstock when winding the 1st, 3rd, 4th, and 6th strings. However, placing the tuners to follow the curve of the headstock makes that a non-issue. And looks cool, too.

Okay, let's attach these things. At the local True Value hardware store, I found some nice brass (real solid brass, not just plated) slot head screws:

Measured the shank with a precision German vernier caliper (no batteries required, ever!):

1/16", right in the middle of the threads. Grabbed a sharp, almost new 1/16" drill bit, marked off the drilling depth with some tape, and chucked it into the drill:

Made sure that each tuner was properly placed, and center punched guide marks under the mounting flange holes. Yes, that's a machine screw, which makes a good self-centering punch:

Next, gently and evenly drill out the mounting screw pilot holes in the headstock, as plumb (straight up and down) as possible:

Sharp eyed readers can see that the drill bit in the above photo isn't exactly plumb - I wasn't actually drilling when I held the drill in one hand and a camera with the other. Anyway, here's a nice new hole; notice also two older holes left over from the first two sets of tuners:

Next step, dip each screw into a bar of soap for lubrication, then run each screw down until it stops naturally, never over-tightening. That's one great reason to use slot head screws - not only do they look cool and vintagey, but it prevents the use of a power driver on a phillips head screw, and so no stripped out heads:

Also - always use a hand held screwdriver for total control. The previous set of tuners was installed using a power driver - three out of the six screw heads broke off when I removed them, which indicates a) the pilot holes were too small, b) the screws were tightened down with no lube and too much force, and c) the screws used were inferior quality.

Here's a shot of the top of the tuners at this point:

Next, do the final tightening of the top nuts. A good tool for that is a 10mm socket on a 1/4" drive handle:

Once again, go gently and slowly. No need for a great deal of tightening torque, just until the washer is fully seated against the headstock, and no more - usually until the handle of the hand driver slips between your fingers, holding it fairly lightly and loosely. Tightening too much creates divots in the finish, and really excessive force can result in stress riser points, which may eventually become a locus at which a crack can form. In any case, no need for gonzo tightening torque - we're not installing the heads on a car engine. I mean, what exactly do you do with that guitar anyway?

Okay, almost done, and here's that same picture that's at the top of this post:

Time to string the Ugly Epiphone Special II up.

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Next time, in Part 4, we'll get around to installing all the other bits and pieces, and finally have a working instrument.

As always, click or tap on any photo above to access larger, higher quality images.

A Manga Family Portrait

A Manga Family Portrait, drawn by our 14 year old manga artist. This may be a family self portrait, but we don't know for sure. For one thing, the artist didn't draw her younger brother as a bratty pest, which he usually happily admits to being. We all think the artist really captured the spirit of our family well! That is, if this actually is our family.

Restyling an Ugly Epiphone Les Paul Junior / Special, Part 2: Making a New Pickguard

The title of this post is kind of a misnomer, since this particular Epiphone Les Paul Special II never did have a pickguard. But a newly made pickguard is indeed "new", so okay, we'll leave that word in. Time to stop messing around with semantics, and pick up some cave man tools and see if we can get into some trouble.

In Part 1, we removed a couple layers of added artificial "aging" paint, one red coat and another of black over everything, and smoothed what was left of the original finish as well as possible:

For the moment, please ignore the pickguard mounting screws in the above picture; those were drilled after the pickguard was completed. As mentioned in Part 1, a WD single-layer cream Tele pickguard was placed over the Epi Les Paul Special body, with a surprising discovery:

Amazingly (hey, almost everything is amazing after a couple micro-brews at 11:30 PM), the cutout on the bottom edge of the Tele pickguard, to fit around a Telecaster bridge plate, nearly exactly fits against a Gibson P90 pickup cover. Also, the cutout for the heel of the neck is within  1/8" of fitting - cool! So now, we'll focus on creating a hybrid Telecaster + Les Paul pickguard, and eventually have a guitar with a P90 pickup at the bridge position, and a Telecaster neck pickup, as well as a very unique look.

The next step was to place the Epiphone Special body face down on the back of the Tele pickguard, align the neck pocket and pickup cutouts, and trace the outline of the body with a soft pencil. Here's a scan of the pickguard after that, and a rough outline of a possible pickguard shape were roughed in:


Then, a sheet of 8x10 printer paper was laid atop the back of the pickguard, and a tracing was done, and cut out:

That laid on the Epi body for a day, while I looked at it every so often, and tried to get used to the shape. I never did - it always felt like something was slightly "off" about the shape. The next day I took the pickguard off my beat up old '77 Gibson TV Special, and did this:

Getting closer. Using the TV Special pickguard as a guide, the paper template was modified:

Good enough. The cream pickguard was only going to be a temporary one anyway, until all the design kinks got worked out, and then a final pickguard would be made, done in whatever color seemed correct. The paper template was placed over the back of the WD pickguard, a line traced around it, and checked with the TV Special scratch-plate:

Okay, now it's time to cut the pickguard down to fit. Went to the local hardware store (we're really lucky to even have a local hardware store anymore, considering), and got new blades for the coping saw. And then, hate to say, but after all these years of fearlessly attacking any and every project, I suddenly got "performance anxiety". You might say I was, having never cut up a pickguard before, having difficulty coping with picking up the coping saw, and tearing into the 'guard.

This lasted a couple days, during which time I binge watched old episodes of Duck Tales in a darkened room, stuffing my face with Cheetos. Just kidding! The starter went out in the Isuzu Oasis, and that took a while to learn how to replace, and then actually doing it. But the truth is, I was nervous, so I didn't take any pictures of the pickguard slicing process, since I knew for sure that I would mess it up. But it turned out okay after all, and here instead are a couple shots taken while making the second and final pickguard, when it got easier:

As you can see, those cuts are rough, and final shaping had to be done with a sharp new blade in an old Stanley knife.

To create the bevels on the edge of the 'guard, hold the pickguard firmly with one hand, and grab the knife with the other hand, and slide the blade along the edge at an angle and gradually trim off the plastic. The trick is to not cut into the pickguard material, but place the blade perpendicular to the plastic, and "shave" it off a little at a time. This is easy to get the hang of - even if you've never done it before, it turns out well:

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This blog post is getting kinda lengthy. It's time for a late lunch, and the garden weed patch needs watering as well. In the meantime, here's a cute picture:

Okay, let's continue, and attach the newly reshaped Telecaster pickguard to this Epiphone Special body. Luckily, the Tele 'guard already had counter-sunk mounting holes. I had a Snappy brand self centering hinge drill bit on hand from my last Tele-Parts-O-Caster project. First, tape the pickguard down exactly where it needs to be. It's great to take your time doing this, since it's kind of an irrevocable act, no go-backs or do-overs, without a lot of hassle:

Look like it's in the right place? Okay, then chuck the Snappy bit (still made in the good ol' USA!) into the drill/driver:

The Snappy self-centering bit has, well, guess what? A self-centering bit! And it works, too. Just stick the bit guard down into the mounting hole in the pickguard, get the drill as plumb (straight up and down) as possible, and then, while squeezing the trigger on the drill (make sure it's cutting forward, not reverse), and gently push downwards on the drill. The actual drill is spring loaded, and not only does it start protruding from its outer tube as you push down, but it also automatically bottoms out, and not too deep for a guitar body, so no risk of drilling out the other side. Actually, it's easier to use than to explain the process:

And really, that's it. After drilling all the holes in the body, take the pickguard and tape off, clean out any sawdust there may be on the body, and then put the scratch-plate back on with some appropriate sized screws. I used some old screws I had in a parts bin, and this is what it looked like:

Now you can see a bit of my secret shame: I have a really messy workbench, full of junk and old crap and memorabilia and sentimental stuff too. In that picture is a 1950s wall clock, an ancient mechanical movement VOM, a painted plaster image of the patron angel of Maastricht, Netherlands (the mayor gave everyone in the band their own angel when we did a concert there),  a drawing my kid made of Finn from Adventure Time, a really great sounding old CTS 12" speaker that came out of a '60s Conn organ and is now in my custom made compact Leslie cab, a bunch of bicycle cable housing pieces, old books, paper covered output transformers, and a ton of other stuff too.

The next day I went back to the hardware store and got some really cool looking, real brass #6 x 1/2" screws. Put an actual pickup in, wired up some pots, stuck the original wrap-around bridge back on, and a couple strap buttons too:

Here's a couple more shots of the beveled pickguard edges:

And that's about the end of this installment. Next time in Part 3, we'll get around to more or less finish putting the Epi Special together, at least enough to take it to a jam and work the bugs and kinks out. In the meantime, here's a photo of how it looks so far:

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As always, tap or click on any image to see a larger, higher def version. All photos (except the cute one) were taken with one of our four cute and handy Lumix and Canon pocket travel cameras.

What's That Bug Doing?

This morning I was heading out the sliding door into the back yard, and saw a small face with prominent round eyes, almost at my own eye level, but on the other side of the screen. Grabbed a camera, and took a picture of a very interesting green bug. Opened the door, and got another picture, but when I previewed that on the camera viewfinder, I thought "Whoa - what's that bug doing?"

Well, whatever it was doing, it seemed like a private moment, so I left it alone. Later, the little green bug was gone, but it had left something behind on the screen. It's either bug poop, or bug eggs, judging from the behavior I had (pardon me) witnessed earlier.

Let's zoom in:

I must say, if those are eggs, Madame Bug, you have some charming looking children. And if that's dung, Sir or Madame as the case may be, that's some very stylish excreta!

Shellacked Cotton String Wrapped Pickup

There's an old roll of cotton string hanging around in the junk drawer in the kitchen - bought at a hardware store in Colorado over 20 years ago, made it through a couple moves, used for a ton of stuff over the years, and now it's almost gone. Technically (but how technical can you get with string?), it's probably more properly called twine, 8 ply - eight smaller threads twisted together - very simple yet strong. One thing that's changed over time, due to being tossed around in the drawer and sometimes left outside, is that the string is getting kind of "fuzzy".

In a back corner of a guitar parts bin, there was a broken single coil pickup. I can't remember what model of guitar it came out of, but when I replaced it for a friend, I tossed it into the bin and forgot about it. The coil is taller than a Strat pickup, with flat top Alnico magnets and unusual scalloped mounting flanges. It has a whole lot of wire wound around the magnets, and back in the 1970s it was probably hotter than most other pickups.

Old dead pickup, old almost used up roll of string... Sounds like the ingredients for another experimental science project. I wrapped a layer of string around the coil; toward the top, you can see where I started the string wind, and some of the red-colored coil wire wrap is peeking out:

Wanted to do at least two wraps of string, but the magnet wire was wound very close to maximum capacity between the coil formers (bobbin, flatwork, whatever). Next, some amber shellac was brushed on liberally over the string, and allowed to dry for a couple of hours. Then, another application of shellac, and the pickup sat overnight.

Looks pretty cool. Although the shellac still has a wet appearance, it's actually quite dry, and the whole layer of shellacked string has glued itself together into a solid and very hard protective shell around the coil windings. If this pickup ever got rewound, it would need some protection, since it's too large to fit under a Strat style cover. Now, I'll consider having this old unknown pickup salvaged, and do the shellacked string thing over again.

Somewhere in the distant past I've seen a transformer that had a similar appearance; maybe in some antique military electronic piece from the 1920s (?). In any case, as an experiment it was at least a cosmetic success. Whether or not the hardened shellac has any tonal advantage or makes horrible squeals at high volumes, won't be known until it gets repeated on a working pickup.

Yes, we have achieved success with dead material; now it's time to see what happens when we experiment on a living subject - alive, I tell you, alive!!!

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Credit to James Whale and Colin Clive, and Boris Karloff's hand. Unseen off camera, Terri Garr gazes adoringly at the Doctor, a quizzical look on her lovely face - no wait, that's another movie.

Autumn 2017

I took a break from blogging for a while last year, and didn't get around to posting these photos from Autumn of 2017.

It's been mentioned a few times that this blog, like The Doctor and his wandering blue call box, exists outside the confines of time and space. We don't take liberties with linear time, so much as we simply disregard it. This ain't twitter. In a world, and universe, where we are literally surrounded by beauty, if we choose to see it, absolute linearity is not a virtue.

Maybe next week I'll post photos from the winter's big snow storm. In the meantime, have a Happy Autumn.

All photos taken with a Lumix DMC-ZS25 pocket sized travel-zoom camera. Program mode, ISO 100-400, flash off, color setting Vivid, no photoshop. Click or tap on any picture above to access larger, higher def images.

Aerial View of Edinburgh, by Alfred G. Buckham, 1920

Quite possibly the greatest aerial photograph ever taken. Photographed by Alfred Buckham only 17 years after the first manned flight, this image must have been a thing of wonder, truly mind boggling at the time; almost 100 years later, it's still breathtaking. To learn more about this photo, and about pioneering aerial photographer Alfred G. Buckham, go to the National Galleries Scotland website.

Most online reproductions of this photo have been artificially tinted in a faint sepia tone in order to, presumably, make the image seem aged. Although it may not be apparent to those who choose to ignore the obvious, keep in mind that when this picture was taken, it was new, and not old. It looks a lot better in black and white.