Your Favorite Guitar memory

[HFox]

Having Richard Hoover present me my 1934 D45 custom at the end of a shop tour during their 40th birthday weekend.......just in awe.
Still have the pictures......and I really ain't worthy.

[Glennwillow]

Wow! There are some wonderful stories here!

Having been playing for a long time, 55 years, and having a good memory, I can think of dozens and dozens of great moments around a guitar.

Because my dad passed away back in 2009 I think of him just about every time I pick up the 1967 Martin D-35 that he gave me when I turned 21. I love that old guitar.



But the memory that just popped into my head this afternoon was when our family all came together for my dad's funeral. I did not have a guitar with me, but one of my sisters-in-law borrowed a decent dreadnought acoustic from a friend of hers. I'm 2nd oldest of 9 children, and I can remember the whole family along with spouses, less my father, of course, and with my mother sitting right across from me, all gathered around the living room in chairs moved in from the kitchen. Somehow everyone seemed to be feeling better as I played a bunch of folk tunes from way back. My mother, in particular, just loved it.

Guitars at the best are really memory makers.

- Glenn

[KenL]

I played in a pretty good classic rock band for 3+ years. We had a Saturday night gig at a small bar in Omaha on a brutally cold winter's night, and had a full house when we went on at 8pm. Every time someone would come in or go out a big blast of frigid air would blow through the place. Brutal.

We were playing well and everyone was having a good time. But when we took our last break at midnight, everyone got up, put their coats on, and ran out the door. I didn't blame them, it was really too darn cold to be out.

So we came back up to the stage and there were only 3 people left besides us- one bartender and two drunk guys in a back booth. So instead of doing our normal last set, I called for a loooong version of "Down By the River," and off we went. I did a long solo in which I pulled out all the stops and tried some stuff that was way over my head but it worked that night. And our drummer, who hated drum solos, got into it and actually played one.

We went on for about 15 minutes, then wrapped it up. And we got a sincere and heartfelt standing ovation and a couple of hoots from the two drunk guys in the back booth, who must have been big Neil Young fans. They then put on their coats and staggered out the door into the cold night.

It was very funny, and I remember it fondly.

[Jaden]

I was given a Spanish made classical guitar while living and renovating my parents old stone wall house (built in the late 19th century) they had left behind in a part of rural Europe - the house stood empty for 37 years before I finally got to see it and live in it.

My guitar playing swooned my girlfriend at the time she remembers.

[Photojeep]

Sorry to bring this back after several months but I wanted to share a new favorite memory.

Just this past July my wife and I were in Louisville visiting my daughter and celebrating my grandson’s 2nd birthday. It was a several week visit and there was one afternoon when I stayed T home while my grandson was taking his nap and everyone else had gone shopping.

He woke up after a couple hours and I wondered if he would like some music. I picked up my daughter’s guitar and played Puff he Magic Dragon and looked over at him to see his reaction. He doesn’t talk much but uses the ASL sign of putting his fingers and thumbs together and tapping his fingertips together telling you he want “more”. He was looking very serious as he signed “more”. Of course I played another song. I looked at him again.

“More” was is response.

I played another.

“More”

I played another.

“More”

You get the picture.

His went on for over an hour.

It just doesn’t get much better than that!

Best
PJ

[GuestIN]

Originally Posted by Photojeep

Sorry to bring this back after several months but I wanted to share a new favorite memory.

Just this past July my wife and I were in Louisville visiting my daughter and celebrating my grandson’s 2nd birthday. It was a several week visit and there was one afternoon when I stayed T home while my grandson was taking his nap and everyone else had gone shopping.

He woke up after a couple hours and I wondered if he would like some music. I picked up my daughter’s guitar and played Puff he Magic Dragon and looked over at him to see his reaction. He doesn’t talk much but uses the ASL sign of putting his fingers and thumbs together and tapping his fingertips together telling you he want “more”. He was looking very serious as he signed “more”. Of course I played another song. I looked at him again.

“More” was is response.

I played another.

“More”

I played another.

“More”

You get the picture.

His went on for over an hour.

It just doesn’t get much better than that!

Best
PJ

It doesn’t get much better than that, at all. Great, great post. ...but one of those rare moments in life where love rattles us awake, and for a few moments we ARE awake. I have my own Odyssey that involves a guitar — and it’s a good one, but I think I’ll wait a few days to post it so people can enjoy yours. Everybody’s got a story to tell, but nobody’s replying.

Well, your post is worth replying to, and anyone not taking notice is missing out on your little dish of humanity. What you shared gets to the heart of why a guitar matters: because it brings joy, and it gives joy. The rest is just window dressing. I’ll stop before they stone me. Thanks for sharing something worth sharing.

Best,

I.A. Newhart

[GuestIN]

Originally Posted by Glennwillow

Wow! There are some wonderful stories here!

Having been playing for a long time, 55 years, and having a good memory, I can think of dozens and dozens of great moments around a guitar.

Because my dad passed away back in 2009 I think of him just about every time I pick up the 1967 Martin D-35 that he gave me when I turned 21. I love that old guitar.



But the memory that just popped into my head this afternoon was when our family all came together for my dad's funeral. I did not have a guitar with me, but one of my sisters-in-law borrowed a decent dreadnought acoustic from a friend of hers. I'm 2nd oldest of 9 children, and I can remember the whole family along with spouses, less my father, of course, and with my mother sitting right across from me, all gathered around the living room in chairs moved in from the kitchen. Somehow everyone seemed to be feeling better as I played a bunch of folk tunes from way back. My mother, in particular, just loved it.

Guitars at the best are really memory makers.

- Glenn

Beautiful stuff, Glenn. Thank you for sharing. In the endless parade of funerals we all watch pass, the hardest ones for me have been the ones where I wasn’t playing guitar at the service. The guitar is the only way I can connect with everyone else sharing the same loss. If I’m not playing, it’s much harder for me to cope. While there’s no worse gig than playing your mom, dad, or best friend’s funeral, it’s an opportunity to bring a little lightness to all that pain. You illustrated this perfectly in your post. Thank you for sharing. Straight from the marrow.

Best,

I.A. Newhart

[AndrewG]

Buying my first decent acoustic when I was 17; a brand new Yamaha FG180. I traded a dreadful Aria 'John Pearse' model for it at Ivor Mairants Musicentre in London around 1970. I remember the truss rod wrench came in a little white cotton drawstring pouch. I loved that guitar and how plain and unadorned it seemed compared with the garish crap I had played until then. It's nice to know how successful the FG series has been since its inception 1966.
That was back in the folk boom of the '60s and that Yamaha went with me everywhere like we were joined at the hip.

[Bax Burgess]

Not my own experience, and from a movie no less, but I envy the kid's hearing of a guitar for the first time.

[Silly Moustache]

Just thought of another one.

When my grandson was about four (a wonderful age) I played this number, as he sat at my feet seemingly spellbound.

At the end he looked at me with those enormous blue eyes and asked "what IS a perfect sound?

[Tony Burns]

The one that comes to mind- at the moment
was when I bought my first real guitar -thou not an acoustic
and thou it was beat up - was a Fender Telecaster custom -
but it had gibson humbuckings, the poles were not perfect -
but it sounded good threw an amp- i latter made a pickguard for it of my design
and thou i sucked at electric- i loved that guitar .

Ask me another day and it would be the day i found and bought my Guild D-55 used -to me thats the pinacle of what a great guitar should be -
and that was my real first decent acoustic - ( Still own it )
The Tele ran me about 150.00 bucks- alot of money at the time .



.

[beatcomber]

My daughter and I.

Now she's a sophomore in college...

[6L6]

The first time I played in London would probably be my favorite memory.

[mercy]

when I was 15 from mowing lawns I was able to buy a stratocaster. It was 1962 and I got a NOS late 50's still with clay dots and that wonderful case with the gold fleece for $350. Then there were only American made strats. But I remember the owner of the store bringing it out, what a thrill.
I still love strats and have had many but a 73 yr old dude rocking out is funny so Im all acoustic now. Different pleasures but the best thing is not having to deal with personalities in a band. I had some great band experiences, especially the jazz band I was in but I was too young to want to put up with problems so I changed bands frequently.

[BobbyMocha]

Finding the 1969 Fender Stratocaster that my neighbor threw out to the curb when I was 10 (in the late 70s) and having to wrestle it away from another neighborhood kid who tried to take it from me. It had no strings but was in great condition otherwise, case and all.

The dark side to this memory is that my parents threw it away while I was at school one day because they didn't want me playing electric guitar, or didn't want to spend the money on strings and a cheap amp. My mother had her sights on all her sons becoming priests.

I've never forgiven them.