The banknotes of Europe
The emperors and kings
Curling in the autumn with the burning of the leaves
And I've cleaned my black guitar...
- "Stop the World", '80s era Clash.
Went guitar shopping. Our local guitar/keyboard/whatever, maaaan, emporium usually has something funny written up on the marquee out front: "You're feeling sleeeepy...veeeerry sleeeepy....come in and buy a guitar...." "The 88 keys to happiness are here!" or, most recently, "curl up with a warm guitar this winter." I went in feeling very timid.
I wouldn't mind living there, I decided. The walls are covered with guitars, the carpet is covered with dog hair and it is full of local cyberhippies and Zeppelin kids. I tiptoed through the rows and rows of gleaming instruments to see a guy in the back playing the blues and a kid holding an Aerosmith songbook. I was greeted by a guy with frizzy hair and an amiable "whatever, maaaan," personality. He showed me some OK student guitars: a black Art&Lutherie Canadian number for $270ish and a Fender all laminate job for $99. Tempted as I was by the name brand and low price, the Fender sounded terrible and I will personally crucify its inventor as soon as I get the chance. Anyway, I tried out the black one and promptly forgot all the chords I ever knew except Dmaj. At least I didn't try to play "Stairway to Heaven." I bought the guitar.
As we were checking out, I overheard a Joni Mitchell impersonator talking about her new keyboard. "I'm getting a keyboard instead of a Christmas tree this year," she said, "I don't want to kill a tree, you know, ethical reasons..." We paid up and left.
So now I am enjoying the simple joys of having a guitar and the lovely bruised feeling the fingers get after a few hours of Amaj Dmaj Emaj...
Whatever, maaaan.
J
Curling in the autumn with the burning of the leaves
And I've cleaned my black guitar...
- "Stop the World", '80s era Clash.
Went guitar shopping. Our local guitar/keyboard/whatever, maaaan, emporium usually has something funny written up on the marquee out front: "You're feeling sleeeepy...veeeerry sleeeepy....come in and buy a guitar...." "The 88 keys to happiness are here!" or, most recently, "curl up with a warm guitar this winter." I went in feeling very timid.
I wouldn't mind living there, I decided. The walls are covered with guitars, the carpet is covered with dog hair and it is full of local cyberhippies and Zeppelin kids. I tiptoed through the rows and rows of gleaming instruments to see a guy in the back playing the blues and a kid holding an Aerosmith songbook. I was greeted by a guy with frizzy hair and an amiable "whatever, maaaan," personality. He showed me some OK student guitars: a black Art&Lutherie Canadian number for $270ish and a Fender all laminate job for $99. Tempted as I was by the name brand and low price, the Fender sounded terrible and I will personally crucify its inventor as soon as I get the chance. Anyway, I tried out the black one and promptly forgot all the chords I ever knew except Dmaj. At least I didn't try to play "Stairway to Heaven." I bought the guitar.
As we were checking out, I overheard a Joni Mitchell impersonator talking about her new keyboard. "I'm getting a keyboard instead of a Christmas tree this year," she said, "I don't want to kill a tree, you know, ethical reasons..." We paid up and left.
So now I am enjoying the simple joys of having a guitar and the lovely bruised feeling the fingers get after a few hours of Amaj Dmaj Emaj...
Whatever, maaaan.
J
posted by RACL at 12:42 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home