Jet-Black Guitars, Yellow Jeeps and Beagles

My wife and I merged our finances early, and I made the mistake of asking if she minded if I spent some of “our” money on an electric bass guitar. She made the mistake of saying no. So, I hatched a plan.

I had been watching these woodworking shows on PBS and I said, “If I had the right tools I could make your mother an Adirondack chair like that one on TV.” A few years later and about $4,000 invested in woodworking tools, I made my mother-in-law her chair and myself an electric bass guitar.

I also joined two guitar maker organizations. They held annual symposiums, one of which was conveniently held in Tacoma, Washington the same weekend as my cousins’ weddings in Portland, Oregon. So off I flew to Washington, rented a car, and went to both events. The next year there was a symposium in Easton, Pennsylvania. Conveniently an hour from my mother-in-law’s and her lovely Adirondack chair.

In all, I made three electric bass guitars (I burned the first one). My son picked up my love for the bass and learned on the second one I made. He plays exceptionally well, and during the summer that he turned 16, he toured the Mid-Atlantic states in the back of a van with a death-metal band. I know what you’re thinking. Parenting 101, “set limits.” I did say the Mid-Atlantic states, it’s not like we said feel free to go into New England or south of the Mason-Dixon line.

My daughter has turned out to be the woodworker, and I have been slowly giving her my accumulation of tools.

Recently, I’ve picked up playing guitar again. Not so much bass as 6-string. I’ve been playing guitar on and off since I took a beginning guitar class in the summer between 5th and 6th grade (I’m thinking 1967ish). I took up my jet-black Fender steel-string acoustic guitar but having not played in years it hurt my fingers. I figured I’d build up my calluses slowly with a nylon string guitar first.

Stuffed in a corner of the finished part of our basement is a pile of guitars. Picture it however you want. Two homemade electric basses, a Gibson SG copy, a Klira “Beatle” bass copy, the jet-black Fender in its hard-shell case and my old nylon string classical guitar. I pulled the classical out of the fray to find the bridge had separated from the top. Could I fix it, sure, but I am impatient. So, I went on eBay looking for a nylon string guitar.

I prefer eBay over Amazon, because Jeff Bezos emails my wife whenever I make a purchase. On eBay I found a new jet-black Ovation nylon string guitar for a reasonable price. I have always wanted an Ovation, respecting the company’s use of scrap Viet Nam War era helicopter materials and American Military-Industrial Complex technology to make guitars. (Maybe a future blog there.)

It arrived in a few days, and I was in the basement playing, when my wife happened by with a load of laundry. Now, I know what you’re thinking; what happened to non-traditional male/female roles in the modern American home? Sorry but, we honor the old traditions. She does to laundry, cooks, vacuums and I play guitar, watch football, drink beer and take naps.

She says, “I didn’t know you had an acoustic guitar.” And I say, “I guess you never noticed. I’ve had it for years.” Luckily the jet-black Fender was in its case in the pile of guitars in the corner.

It only took me a few days to remember that I had always wanted an acoustic bass guitar. EBay again, and a few days later I have a jet-black Fender acoustic bass resting on my knee when she comes thru vacuuming. I fain annoyance, lest she count the number of strings on the bass. Four.

It only took me a few days to remember my lost 12-string.

(see previous blog) Yada, yada yada. There’s a jet-black Ibanez 12-string resting on my knee.

Now in my addled mind I’m thinking I have a good thing going here. I have four jet-black guitars, and as long as no two of them are seen together, all is well with the world. I’m staring out the window, guitar on my knee, beer in my hand trying to ignore the vacuuming going on under my feet and I’m looking out at my yellow Jeep Wrangler. The thought came in a rare moment of clarity; if I never park them next to each other, she wouldn’t notice if I had a few more yellow Jeeps.

Do you think she’d notice if I got another Beagle?