I’m bored—tell me a good guitar story and I will mail you a pick

[rjathon]

When I graduated from college in 1978 my parents gave me a guitar. I went on to medical school and for four years was too busy to try it. During my internship a fellow offered to give me lessons. The plan was for him to come to my apartment at 10:30 pm on Monday nights. We did just one lesson as I only got home that early once.

That guitar followed me through training and on to practice. It spent 12 years in at attic in MT enduring temperatures from -40’s to +100. Eventually my older son wanted a guitar so I offered it to him but he wanted an electric. My youngest now has it. It turned out to be an Alvarez Yairi. It is in perfect condition and has a wonderful tone.

I now play but of course too late for the Yairi.

Russ

[woodbox]

I’ve told this tale before here on AGF but here goes again.

In the fall of 1965, just after my Grandmother had moved up from California to Oregon,
I saw a black guitar case in the garage on top a bunch of stuff we were storing for Grandma.

I pulled it down, opened the chip-board case and found a little guitar with 3 corroded strings.
From then on, pretty much everyday after school, but before parents got home, I’d go out and play around with that guitar.
Ultimately I discovered how to play the opening bass riff from an Animals song - “We gotta get outa this Place”

I spent the next few months trying to emulate what I was hearing on the radio and having a grand time of it .. remember, this was late 1965, so Beatles, Kinks, Paul Revere and the Raiders were huge, and there were lots of guitar riffs to play with.
But then, one day, the guitar was GONE.
Yep, it was nowhere to be found in the garage.
It had obviously been removed.

Ours was not a family where kids could ask about such things, so I spoke not a word.
I guess I knew I was doing something “wrong” all along.
It’s why I snuck out to the garage instead of bringing it in to the house,
and apparently the punishment for my snooping offense was removal of the object of my new-found affection.
I guess we might call that ‘dysfunctional’ family dynamics.

Anyway, the good news is this — Christmas morning rolls around and THERE IS THE GUITAR under the tree, all freshly strung up and with my name on it.
I was absolutely stunned and speechless.

Yep, the 1928 Martin 0-18 that Grandma had bought new was mine..Christmas of ‘65.
I was 11 1/2 yrs old and fortunately knew I’d been blessed with a treasure,
so I took good care of it.
I still have it.

This coming Christmas will mark 55 years of Martin ownership for me.

[Sequimite]

I decided to learn to play guitar in 1985.(Drummer since the sixties) My birthday was coming up in August and I had $250 to buy an electric guitar. After a lot of shopping I couldn't find anything I liked. The day before my birthday I told my wife I was going to keep looking, would try the city police auction in a few days.

At the St. Louis City Police auction all the stuff was cordoned off and despite a lot of peering I didn't see any guitars. But I did see a couple of other things I was interested in so I stuck around for the auction. I was in the back and couldn't see much detail when a Gibson guitar was hoisted up and the auction started. Well, it was a Gibson so I and one other guy started bidding. I had it for $75 with "going twice", but the other guy decided to keep going. I bought it for $125.

After the auction I walked back with my $125 in cash to pick up the guitar. The cop opened the case and my hand started shaking so badly that I dropped the bills, picked them up and dropped them again.

I was looking at an early 335 dot neck. Actually made at the end of 1958, but apparently the 1959 model with a bound neck. I took it to the guy who had the rep as the best guitar tech in town and he remarked that the saddle hadn't been notched (you did it yourself back then) and he thought the strings were original. He said that if you open the dictionary to "mint" there should be a photo of this guitar. He cleaned it up, notched the saddle, and put on new strings.

I called my friend Mike to ask his advice on learning guitar. He told me that the other guitarist he was gigging with once a week had moved away and asked me to take his place. I said, "shouldn't I learn to play it first?" and he replied, "come by, I'll show you what to do." Now, I'd been playing gigs with guitarists for a number of years so I had some ideas, and a few were even correct. I learned two Grateful Dead songs at Mike's and three days later was in front of an audience. Well it was ugly, but I kept the the amp turned low and in about two months I could play all the material. (with chord charts)

Over the next six years I played rhythm guitar with two other groups and did trio work with Mike on his D-18 and his wife on piano. With growing young children and worry over the fact that my kids and my nieces and nephews kept getting the 335 out of its case I sold it to an agent, found out later it went to G. E. Smith.

[_zedagive]

Originally Posted by woodbox

I’ve told this tale before here on AGF but here goes again.

In the fall of 1965, just after my Grandmother had moved up from California to Oregon,
I saw a black guitar case in the garage on top a bunch of stuff we were storing for Grandma.

I pulled it down, opened the chip-board case and found a little guitar with 3 corroded strings.
From then on, pretty much everyday after school, but before parents got home, I’d go out and play around with that guitar.
Ultimately I discovered how to play the opening bass riff from an Animals song - “We gotta get outa this Place”

I spent the next few months trying to emulate what I was hearing on the radio and having a grand time of it .. remember, this was late 1965, so Beatles, Kinks, Paul Revere and the Raiders were huge, and there were lots of guitar riffs to play with.
But then, one day, the guitar was GONE.
Yep, it was nowhere to be found in the garage.
It had obviously been removed.

Ours was not a family where kids could ask about such things, so I spoke not a word.
I guess I knew I was doing something “wrong” all along.
It’s why I snuck out to the garage instead of bringing it in to the house,
and apparently the punishment for my snooping offense was removal of the object of my new-found affection.
I guess we might call that ‘dysfunctional’ family dynamics.

Anyway, the good news is this — Christmas morning rolls around and THERE IS THE GUITAR under the tree, all freshly strung up and with my name on it.
I was absolutely stunned and speechless.

Yep, the 1928 Martin 0-18 that Grandma had bought new was mine..Christmas of ‘65.
I was 11 1/2 yrs old and fortunately knew I’d been blessed with a treasure,
so I took good care of it.
I still have it.

This coming Christmas will mark 55 years of Martin ownership for me.

^^^^^ I think we have a winner!. Now let's see a pic of that old 0-18.

[Rexsblues]

My grandfather grew up in the 1940s, and was a fan of country and western music. It all began when he was around 5 years old, his father took him to the county fair where they lived in California's Central Valley. That night, there was a concert put on by a locally known cowboy singer named Tex Brown. He sang old songs and did some of the popular numbers of the day (sort of a Bob Wills ripoff) as the farmers and their wives danced in front of the stage. My grandfather was enamoured as he watched Tex strumming his big guitar, and knew in that moment that he wanted to play the guitar. He begged his parents for weeks to buy him a guitar, but they were poor. Shortly after he was born, they had packed up and moved from their home in Oklahoma to a California labor camp. One day about a year later he came home from school and his mom told him to go look in his bedroom. Lying on his bed was a brand new guitar - a little Harmony Stella. They had managed to scrape up the money to buy him his first guitar. He was elated, and played that guitar for years until he was able to get a Gibson archtop as a teenager.

Fast forward decades later. In the 1990s my grandfather had managed to work his way up to a great job, and for the first time in his life he could afford a very nice guitar. He went down to the local music shop with one thing on his mind - a Martin dreadnought. He came in the shop and told the salesman what he was looking for, and how much he had to spend. "You're in luck!" the salesman told him. "We just got in a great old Martin!" He pulled a beautiful old D-18 off the wall, tuned it up, and gave it to my grandfather to try it out. He strummed it for almost an hour. It sounded just like he hoped it would. It was expensive, but he worked hard, and rarely treated himself. "where'd this old thing come from anyway?" he asked the clerk. "A lady brought it in, it was her husband's." he said, "He played it quite a bit as you can see. Even carved his name in it." My grandfather looked, and there on the back of the headstock, carved with a pen knife was the name Tex Brown.

[Ozzy the dog]

I've featured this one on AGF before too.........

In December 2016 I was imagining how the sides of an acoustic guitar might look if they were made of a series of small individual planks to resemble a ship’s decking. As I looked into suitable wood sources, I came across some remnants of teak that had been salvaged from a WWI merchant ship, the SS Pegu. The Pegu was sunk by German U boat, U57, on 8th July 1917 whilst carrying Burmese Teak from Rangoon to Liverpool to be used for the fortification of heavy gun emplacements in France and Belgium. What made this timber more interesting was that it had reportedly been salvaged to refurbish the Cutty Sark following the devastating fire in 2007.

Although Teak is not ideal for a guitar I couldn’t resist and acquired a few lengths of the Teak. I spent 2017 building the guitar and the last piece was finished and all assembled on 8th July 2017 – 100 years to the day of the sinking.

As the back is Honduras Mahogany and the Teak was only used for the sides it doesn't adversely affect the sound generated by the Cedar front.

The guitar now rests on its’ stand in the kitchen and is played every day.



Edit - forgot to mention I don't use picks.

[three4rd]

Best thread title ever!! LOL....caught my eye and so had to check it out. My story is not a joyful one - was playing some sort of show while in Jr. High and had practice after school. I had my double-anniversary model Gretsch - left the auditorium for a few minutes and came back to a sight that I can still see to this day nearly 50 years later - that of my guitar, in apparent pieces (wasn't sure how many at the time - turned out to be a shattered neck) - laying on the floor in front of the stage. I'll never forget the look of all the tangled strings laying loosely across the broken neck. I'm sure the look on my face was one suitable for a Stephen King movie. The kids involved in the practice were dead silent when I came back in, and, needless to say, noone would 'fess up to the deed. The tale eventually unraveled, and there was an insurance claim through the family responsible - have no idea anymore what the kid's name was or how he managed to play and drop the guitar. Got it fixed and had it for decades after. In fact, sold it just a few years ago as part of my Mom's estate sale. At the time, I was not selling on eBay but otherwise could have done much better there, even with it not being in real good condition anymore (still had the repaired neck on it though...)

And...yeah...I have plenty of picks, but was cool to share a story, albeit not a very happy one in some ways.

[woodbox]

Here are a couple pictures of my 1928 0-18.

I hope they show up.. I’m not good at this.
EDIT: Oops, there’s some pictures, but sideways.
(I was instructed how to fix that, and tried, but they ended up sideways THE OTHER WAY,
and then UPSIDE DOWN, so I’m gonna leave things as they are)

Anyway, it’s still a sweet player, light as the proverbial feather, and set my feet upon the trail that led me to all of you here on AGF.

As I often say, these little wooden boxes can open doors and build bridges.
I’ve most certainly been blessed by the gift of this little Martin.

[llew]

Originally Posted by Ozzy the dog

I've featured this one on AGF before too.........

In December 2016 I was imagining how the sides of an acoustic guitar might look if they were made of a series of small individual planks to resemble a ship’s decking. As I looked into suitable wood sources, I came across some remnants of teak that had been salvaged from a WWI merchant ship, the SS Pegu. The Pegu was sunk by German U boat, U57, on 8th July 1917 whilst carrying Burmese Teak from Rangoon to Liverpool to be used for the fortification of heavy gun emplacements in France and Belgium. What made this timber more interesting was that it had reportedly been salvaged to refurbish the Cutty Sark following the devastating fire in 2007.

Although Teak is not ideal for a guitar I couldn’t resist and acquired a few lengths of the Teak. I spent 2017 building the guitar and the last piece was finished and all assembled on 8th July 2017 – 100 years to the day of the sinking.



As the back is Honduras Mahogany and the Teak was only used for the sides it doesn't adversely affect the sound generated by the Cedar front.

The guitar now rests on its’ stand in the kitchen and is played every day.



Edit - forgot to mention I don't use picks.

Great story...especially finishing up on the 100th anniversary of her sinking. Can you share a finished picture? I'd love to see the final product!

[fenderball]

a bird crapped on my Les Paul mid gig, mid song, right between the pick ups once...not kidding...

[Parlorman]

I recently sold a museum quality 1893 Martin 0-28. It was near mint. Last year I was playing it on my back porch. I set the guitar in its case on the porch table to tend the grill but didn’t shut the case. Suddenly a gust of wind lifted the table umbrella about six feet in the air. The sharp bottom of the umbrella pole came down on the edge of the open case about 1/2 inch away from the lower bout of the guitar. It bounced away from the guitar and left it untouched. I was sick to my stomach that I had nearly destroyed a magnificent instrument.

[whvick]

Originally Posted by MThomson

No need for a pick, but I've enjoyed your series so I'll share my story of how I got my first full size guitar.



I'd started playing at school on a very cheap 3/4 size guitar at the age of 9. 3 years later, I started high school and was offered the chance to play classical guitar, which I took. By Christmas, I was 5' 9" and not really loving practicing on my cheap, small guitar.



As per our family tradition, we had dinner with our neighbours on New Year's day along with their next door neighbours as well (who I didn't know all that well). During dinner, the next door neighbour was asking what I was involved in at school and I told him I was learning guitar. He near jumped out of his chair and told me I HAD to go with him. So through we went to his house where he produces this guitar that his friend had given him when his friend moved to China. He'd tried to play and couldn't get into it and told me it was mine if I wanted it. I said I'd have to get my folks permission, but I'd love it. He refused any repayment for it, with the exception that I had to play it for him that day.



The guitar was a Yamaha G240 classical and I loved it. It lit a fire under me and I've played it for 30 years. Without it, I'm not sure I'd still be a guitarist.

Great story
He was a good guy!
Thanks

[whvick]

Originally Posted by jjbigfly

Ok......waaaay back in the day, we lived in California. Grandad came down from Oregon to visit and had stopped at a “rummage sale” (no garage sales back then) with my older brother (think he was 15). Anyway, there was a guitar there with no case and no strings but it was 5 dollars. Now my brother did not play but thought he might want to and so grandpa snatched it up and handed it to him. Years later I kind of inherited it and learned to play. Over time I really wanted to get a brand new guitar of my own with a case. Every thing I played sounded bad in every store I went into. Finally a sales guy asked what I was playing now. I really had no idea what it was. So I brought it in to him and he quickly discerned the difficulty. I had a plain Gibson J-50. I don’t think I ever did find a guitar that sounded as nice.... I never played with anyone so I had no idea what it was, it seemed to be an old wooden guitar. Once the sales person played it he was able to find the type of instrument I wanted. And all of them cost much more than a high school kid could afford.

That is great! Did you hang on to it?

[whvick]

Originally Posted by RP

Don't know if you like legal twists and turns, but here goes....

On March 23, 1994, a medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a gunshot wound of the head caused by a shotgun. Investigation to that point had revealed that the decedent had jumped from the top of a ten-story building with the intent to commit suicide. (He left a note indicating his despondency because of his failed musical career.)

As he passed the 9th floor on the way down, his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast through a window, killing him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the decedent was aware that a safety net had been erected at the 8th floor level to protect some window washers, and that the decedent would most likely not have been able to complete his intent to commit suicide because of this.

Ordinarily, a person who sets out to commit suicide and ultimately succeeds, even if the mechanism might not be what they intended, is defined as having committed suicide. That he was shot on the way to certain death nine stories below probably would not change his mode of death from suicide to homicide, but the fact that his suicide intent would not have been achieved under any circumstance caused the medical examiner to feel that he had homicide on his hands.

Further investigation led to the discovery that the room on the 9th floor whence the shotgun blast emanated was occupied by an elderly man and his wife. He was threatening her with the shotgun because of an interspousal spat regarding the new Somogyi guitar he'd just purchased and became so upset that he could not hold the shotgun straight. Therefore, when he pulled the trigger, he completely missed his wife, and the pellets went through the window, striking the decedent.

When one intends to kill subject A but kills subject B in the attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject B. The old man was confronted with this conclusion, but both he and his wife were adamant in stating that neither knew that the shotgun was loaded. It was the longtime habit of the old man to threaten his wife with an unloaded shotgun. He had no intent to murder her; therefore, the killing of the decedent appeared then to be accident.

That is, the gun had been accidentally loaded.

But further investigation turned up a witness that their son was seen loading the shotgun approximately six weeks prior to the fatal accident. That investigation showed that the mother (the old lady) had cut off her son's financial support [and he was unable to buy a new guitar and go to Nashville to launch his musical career], and her son, knowing the propensity of his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation that the father would shoot his mother. The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus.

Now comes the exquisite twist. Further investigation revealed that the son, Ronald Opus himself, had become increasingly despondent over the failure of his attempt to get his mother murdered. This led him to jump off the ten-story building on March 23, only to be killed by a shotgun blast through a 9th story window.

The medical examiner closed the case as a suicide, and it was indeed, Roland's Last Opus...

Too good to be true! Love it
thanks

[ahorsewithnonam]

Uh, what kind of pick?