After an interminable wait I finally spot the man at the glass door. At last! He's unlocking the dead bolt! I dash from my car and have my hand upon the push bar almost before he has turned and left the doorway. I must get in! I must have my fix now!"
If this sounds like the edgy plot of a disturbing story about a hopeless alcoholic anxiously awaiting opening time at a liquor store, do not be dismayed or misled. This is simply a description of me sitting outside the music store waiting for 10:00 AM to roll around so I can do some early morning perusing of all the percussion items they have for sale. I am fanatical like that. On this particular morning I was on a mission to find some drum heads for a floor tom, but discovered they would have to be special-ordered.
While taking care of this paperwork, I happened to notice a 12" coated batter head lying behind a counter. It suddenly struck me that this would fit the 12" snare that goes with the Micro-Fortress, the child's drumset that I knock around on sometimes. Replacing the cheap clear head on this drum with a real coated head would make that little snare sound awesome!
"Hey, how much do you want for that?" I asked the salesperson nonchalantly, pointing in a non-threatening manner.
"Oh, ten bucks, I guess," the helpful young chap replied.
"Sold," I said, and soon I was dismantling my downsized, diminutive drum to execute this quick switch of heads. The subnormal snare was held together by six long, slender bolts that passed through the top rim and the bottom rim, squeezing the heads together around the shell. Five of these fasteners came right off with no problem. Then I encountered number six.
It wouldn't budge. I twisted harder. It wouldn't move. I twisted harder.....
Pop! The darn thing busted. Not only that, but the "bolt-thingy" broke off inside the "nutchamajob" and I couldn't get it out. I managed to break the "boltamajigger" again trying to force it out, rendering the whole assemblage useless.
I was a little apprehensive* about my situation at this point, because not only was I unsure I would be able to repair my darling, dwarfish drum, I didn't even know the name of the "whatchamacallit" I needed to complete this repair! Time to do a little research on the world-wide web.
Here is an undistinguished yet delightfully-designed diagram detailing the different divisions of the drum anatomy that I drew to document this dissection. (Click to enlarge.) As one could clearly see if they were interested in such things, what I needed was what is known in percussion parlance as a "Tension Rod." These threaded shafts of metal are what hold tight the rim of the drum, which in turn pulls the head down over the shell.
The tension rod screws into the lug via a "swivel nut," which is precisely the part I was prepared to pursue.
In the case of my dinky drum, however, there were no lugs to contend with. Because of the shallow shell-depth of this shrimpy shnare, there was insufficient space between the rims to allow for lugs, so as I so adequately described previously, the elongated tension rods run directly through both rims and into special "swivel nuts," a descriptive term which has absolutely nothing to do with rotatable male genitalia.
So, off to the music store I went, confidently striding up to the counter to inquire about the availability of the elusive part I needed to repair my dainty drum.
"Excuse me," I asked politely, "Do you have swivel nuts?"
"No, sir," said the salesperson, "I am afraid my private parts do not spin whatsoever."
"STOP WITH THE ANATOMICAL REFERENCES!" I screamed (in my head) and explained to him the perplexing predicament that was presently provoking perturbation within me. Within minutes I had the part I needed and proceeded with the process of replacing the top head of my micro-snare.
Well, not all stories have satisfying happy endings, and this just happens to be one like that. I discovered, after tightening all the tension rods tenaciously, that the coated head was about one millimeter too large to fit properly, so I scrapped the whole darn thing and put the old head back on like before. The good news is, I got the drum back together and it still works. The bad news is, I ended up wasting an entire afternoon writing this stupid piece.
And you sat there and read it.
Oh well, at least now you know what "swivel nuts" are officially, unlike some ignorant people who believe this is what you call crazy people who are a little too enthusiastic about twirly rides at fairs and theme parks.
______________________________________________________
*meaning "scared," but with a college education.
No comments:
Post a Comment