I would describe my Uncle Ambo (not his real name, “uncle” is an honorific title) as simultaneously the most intimidating and most loving person I've ever met in my life.
Ambo strikes a figure. He has a long Gandolf-style beard that reaches clear down past his chest. His yard is full of garden beds and BBQ equipment. I've never met anyone with so many tools. Routers, drills, presses, planers, joiners, you name it, he's got it. And he’s prepared for the end of the world. If there’s a zombie apocalypse, I’m going to Ambo’s house, first thing.
I've known Ambo for many years. We met because we ran in the same circle of people. At first, I thought he was the biggest dick. He was incredibly rude and brash to me the first time we met. I kept my distance for a good three years. Of course, I was friendly, but still, I gave him a wide berth.
As it turns out, Ambo only respects people who challenge him. It wasn't until I seriously dug into him, made fun of, and got really in his face in an incredibly aggressive way that he opened up. Not too much longer after that would I come to discover how deeply he cared about everyone and their well-being. If he saw someone about to get hurt, I have little doubt that he would step in and do the right thing, even if it messed him up. There’s stories there, but you’ll have to ask him about it.
Nonetheless, I mean it when I say it: Uncle Ambo is simultaneously the most intimidating and most loving person I've ever met.
I was blessed to live close to Uncle Ambo during the pandemic. Although the pandemic made things incredibly tough in so many ways, I was able to convince Ambo to hang out. He smoked a pipe. I smoked a cigar. We didn’t cough in each other’s faces. It worked.
The conversations always flowed. Ambo is probably the smartest man I've ever met. The amount of knowledge he has about building, construction, carpentry, woodworking, cooking, and lyrics to random b-sides from the 1940-1990 absolutely infuriates me. It’s annoying as shit!
But I do know about guitars. Naturally, Ambo and I bonded over them. We would share interesting videos of weird guitars we’d find. He recently sent me a guitar of Pat Methany's that made my back hurt just looking at it. It had about 50 strings, and looked about as many pounds of weight. Sometimes I’d find weird instruments and send them to him. We’d talk about pickups, the style of guitar body and the sound. We’d send interesting amplifier ideas back and forth. At one point, I believe that Ambo was the one who found the Apprehension Engine.
I can't imagine anything more frightening in a film than for there to be silence, and all of a sudden a single sound from the Apprehension Engine, at just the right moment. That video impressed both of us. After weeks of conversations, I think I finally got the courage to ask him if he might be interested in creating one for me. I told him he could have creative autonomy if he wanted it. I told him it just had to be scary as fuck. He agreed. We ended up calling it The Nightmare Machine.
Neither of us had no idea what we was getting into.
Protoyping the Nightmare Machine