i played a gibson L-50 in a music shop in lyons, colorado one day after work. for hours. and i thought about the guitar all the next day. i went back the next evening after work to buy it. and even though the guitar had just arrived in the shop, it had sold by the time i got there. to a guy who was dying. i don't blame him. i spent the next year searching for another one. i scoured the internet. and then when i finally gave up, i found another one in a another shop in colorado. the neck was so worn at the top you couldn't make an F chord. i bought it for eight hundred dollars and put another seven hundred dollars into a shaved neck, a fret job, a new nut, saddle, pickup and a blush erase on the finish.
when i picked it up, my repairman showed me that someone, at sometime, had carved the name "Jane" into the heel of the neck. if my house was on fire, i'd run back in to save this guitar.
No comments:
Post a Comment