My old guitar.I picked up my old Harmony classic guitar the other day and plucked. God. So out of tune I couldn't get close. Then I picked up my old electronic tuner. In a few minutes it was tight and tuned. Wait 5 minutes and sour again. Retune. Wait. Retune. Wait. Play (euphemism for making not so good noises). Retune. Play. Retune. Put down with sigh.
I last played with the “axe” about 10 years ago. New strings. Electronic tuner. Sore finger tips for a week. Then on to other things. My old college roommate, Charlie, will vouch for the hours of “The Sloop John B.” to get some semblance of finger placement. Then on to bar cords and moving up and down the neck. Then playing around with a blonde (dirty minds) solid body electric. What fun. Finger calluses and strong fingers. Interspersed with fishing and drinking, that was the life. Charlie was a good sport about all this, learning the words to the “Sloop” and never once yelling “For God’s Sake Put That Damn Thing Down!!”.
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