Bunny Butler

Shop Update: Wiring the road organ for Leslie 122 and 147

After years of having only Leslie 147s and their equivalents, the Leslie 31H “Tallboy” will soon join the ranks once its rebuild is complete. In preparation, I’m outfitting my organs with 122 as well as 147 hookups. The excitement is palpable.

A treatise from within the clouds: Aboard Cape Air

From an October 2016 Facebook post

Flying Cape Air is, against its mainstream adversaries or, shudder, the bus, a rare treat. A treat, though, for refined tastes. Single-malt, small-batch, all that nonsense. In an era when even a modern jetliner can seem outdated, a piston-powered plane with only one pilot and where your weight dictates your seat is positively Rococo. A Brough-Superior versus a Kawasaki. Rudolph Valentino versus James Franco.

Make America Super Again

Folks get the wrong idea about me. Because my online dating profiles usually contained the 1968 Kinks lyric “I’m the last of the good old-fashioned steam-powered trains,” and I tend to surround myself with machinery old enough to collect Social Security, and I pronounce “#” as “pound,” I must be a certifiable codger, a stone-assed Conservative, bemoaning the curse of being born in le wrong generation, who would tell children to vacate his tract of grass-covered land if children had any desire to trespass upon a yard full of squirrel-nibbled oranges and stray cats.

The Gonzo Leslie: A modern discourse in subtle savagery

There’s little hope once I get something in my head. In late 2018, I got it in there that I needed an upgrade to my live Leslie situation. For us foolhardy organists still trotting out the big iron on a Wednesday night dues-payer, it’s a tale as old as 4/4 time. My existing 147 was a good cabinet, but was getting lost in the mix onstage. It was also my only Leslie at the time. I wanted a dedicated “road” cabinet, designed specifically for such. The off-the-shelf options were cost prohibitive, and lackluster–to me–in their specifications. While many of my more well-heeled compatriots would rather log on to Sweetwater and take Todd Rundgren’s 1972 advice to “just throw money,” being of simple means (read: po’) forces one to get creative; so does being exceptionally demanding of one’s gear. So does the desire simply to experiment. The only solution was to build what I needed. It would be as loud and clean as practically possible, giving more than enough headroom for any situation. And it would hook up just like a regular 147. Thus, the Gonzo Leslie was born. It thumbs its witchy nose at purists and the status quo. This is what it’s all about.