The Roasting Pan Resonator



Two things that everyone enjoys with an almost inhuman gusto - assuming you exclude vegetarians, neat freaks, and the humor impaired - are big ol' honey-baked hams and guitars. Is there anything better in life than slashing out power chords with pork-grease covered fingers while chomping on a piping hot, lovingly glazed, mouthful of Smithfield's finest?

I think not.

Thus it came to pass that I had an epiphany. My mind erupted with a blinding light, an exemplary vision, and I saw the true-true. I knew, without question, that a resonator guitar, crafted from a vintage, Graniteware roasting pan and doused in multiple coats of Rustoleum's finest hammered-copper paint and primer, would transform the American musical landscape. 

And thus it began. Who says a guitar has to look a certain way? In an era where we’re bombarded with mandates to celebrate diversity (and socially pilloried if we don’t) why is the traditional guitar shape considered sacrosanct?

I’m not unfamiliar with building stringed instruments, and have constructed over a hundred. But, for some reason, I’m compelled to devise them out of junk and garbage. This seems to be an integral facet of my Ozarkian DNA, and my kith and kin from the hilly backwaters of southern Missouri have been recycling the flotsam and jetsam of civilized society into items that are useful/amusing for generations.

It’s just what we do.

So now, residing in the corner of my living room, and waiting to reside in yours, are a variety of stringed creations that thumb ther collective noses (does a guitar have a nose) at the snobby elitists of the guitar world. These critters will take you down all the musical rabbit holes you could ever desire. They possess all the smokin’ mojo of Saturday night in a backwoods juke joint. They play like a demon, and sound like the whiskey-soaked dreams of a beat-down delta bluesman.

These one-of-a-kind instruments will cement your fame as a musician of discerning taste and inarguable brilliance should you add them to your on-stage bag of trickedy tricks. Hanging on your wall, your friends and family will be jealous and amazed . . . and if you surreptitiously hint that your one-of-a-kind reso was purchased in the finest art galley Tijuana has to offer, well heck, I won't mind a bit.


Body: 12" x 18" x 5"

Top: 24-gauge steel backed with thin, Baltic Birch

Neck & Headstock: Oak and Poplar

Finish: Multiple coats of Rustoleum Hammered-Copper Paint & Primer

Scale: 25"

Number of Strings: 3

Frets: 15 to the body

Tailpiece: Hand-hammered, 24-Gauge Sheet Metal

Reso Cone:  9.5" Stew Mac Biscuit Cone

Cone Cover: 1961 Falcon hubcap impeccably mangled with my $9, Harbor Freight angle grinder

Internal Goodies: Four soundposts connecting the bottom of the top to the top of the bottom

Pickup:  Piezo pickup with volume control. The piezo itself is inset into the centerline neck stick, encased in rubber cement.

Action: Faster than the greased lightning that struck the greased pig which would have been cooked in the Graniteware Roasting Pan if I hadn't turned it into a guitar.

String height at Zero Fret: About 2mm

String Height at 12th fret: About 4mm

Neck Width: 1.5 inches all the way


©  2022