Last night, I sat in bed watching television with my guitar in my hands. I had intended to play it. Only I didn't. I never picked a note. Yet, there she remained in my hands for that couple of hours, as if that's exactly where she was always meant to be. Few things put me in as a positive state of mind as my guitar.
Sometimes, I think about what if one of my guitars belonged to someone else or got lost or was stolen. Monetarily, it wouldn't be big loss; they aren't worth that much. Sentimentally, though, I'd be devastated. Seriously. A person's relationship with his or her guitar is a funny thing. I know a lot of other people who think of their guitar as the best damn friend they ever had. I wouldn't argue. There's a lot to like about a guitar. There's a lot of potential waiting to be drawn out of that body and six strings. The best aspect of owning a guitar, though, is that when the relationship is good, it's one of the few things in the world you can feel truly comfortable with at any time.
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