Me and my guitar

August 24th, 2004 at 1:31 am by sillyjoe (Around the Interweb, Music)

So the Sage’s blog pointed me to this article about guitars. And I literally almost got teary-eyed reading it. There is nothing in life, other than God, that I get as passionate about as I do my guitars. With a six-string (or sometimes a twelve-string) in my hand…all the problems, all the pain….it all goes away.

I’ll just leave you with part of the article. Read the whole thing, though.

And I think you know who you are. Some men keep guitars under their beds. Some men keep guitars in their hallway closets. Some men keep guitars in a corner of the living room, on three-pronged guitar stands they bought at the shop where they buy strings, until they are asked to move their guitars to a guest room or the garage. And teen-age men, who sit on waterbeds beneath posters and work out chord progressions with the amp turned down low, or turned up, depending on the current state of domestic affairs. Men with electric guitars are men who — secretly or plainly — wish to start or join a band. To be a great among greats, looking back at the crowd for once instead of looking out from it. Otherwise the guitar wouldn’t have to be plugged in, a life-death metaphor in show business and hospitals.

Men with acoustic guitars wish to be charming, so they can be in love. They believe in campfires and circular meanings contained in simple narratives. They have messages: Jesus Saves and He is Groovy. This War is Hell. You Broke My Heart But I Love You Anyways.

A man buys a guitar and classifies himself. There is a beauty in the having, the keeping, the care. There is a suffering as well, not being virtuoso.

Whether he plays it.

Whether he doesn’t, and it stays under the bed.

RSS feed for comments on this post · TrackBack URL

Post a Comment