So, today I went and got my dog vaccinated in a part of town I've never been in before. Then I thought, "I'm hungry", so I stopped at a Starbucks. Then, I saw that there was a music store right in that same complex, so I decided to go peek at a couple of guitars. Or five. And I got a lesson in something else while there. The nice man, Greg led me back to the guitar room. Perfectly lit, wondrously humidified and temperaturized with that wood smell that makes a guitar player's heart melt. I love sticking my nose in a solid wood guitar. Amazing.
After convincing him that I wasn't looking for a $500 guitar, he led me over to the Taylors and Martins. This is more like it. We got down a couple of the ones in the $2,500-$3,500 price range. I sat on the stool, he plugged me in and I played away. He asked me for my first impressions. I had a hard time telling him. That's when I really started to pay attention, closing my eyes. I realized that I was trying to hear and understand the difference between guitars instead of just feel the difference of each one being played in my hand. Pretty soon, I was able to describe them pretty well. There was a particular Martin that was beautiful. I love how it looked. He asked me how I liked it after I played it for a minute. First thing that came out of my mouth: "Boring". I tried to convince myself that it was amazing, especially after looking at the $3,000 price tag. But truth be told, the guitar felt stiff, unresponsive, cold and boring in my hands. The guys eyebrows went up and then he said "good!" and took it out of my hand, praising me as if we'd just won a victory. Then it clicked. I said, "I think I just learned something about relationships". The guy laughed and said, "yeah, you're exactly right. It IS a relationship. I'm going to use that. Too bad I can't send you royalties!"
So what I realized is that I shouldn't feel bad to admit what a guitar feels like to me. I'm not passing judgement on it's actual value. I'm 100% sure that the Martin was a fine, well-crafted and valuable instrument. I was only expressing how it felt when I held it and played it. It just didn't work and didn't fit. I think this is how it is in relationships. I've gotten so technical and felt bad when I couldn't make it work instead of trusting that by passing on something, I am allowing that person to be discovered by someone else who feels that this is right, and I am also giving myself an opportunity to discover new sounds, if that makes sense. One thing I realized, too. Don't dismiss the feeling of "home" in guitars or relationships. I think I got so practical that I forgot to believe that finding someone you love like crazy does involve time and choice, but there still is magic and mystery and beauty as well. I think I'd convinced myself that this was all a bunch of "hooey", as my Uncle Bruce would say. So, here's another thought. No matter what guitar you choose to play, to do it well will take time, discipline, commitment, practice, error and more practice and patience. But, when you're playing on a guitar that you love, that feels good and that feels natural and like "home", it makes the practice much more fun and enjoyable. So, choosing a guitar is a lot like love, I think.
