The new guitar on the couch, held up by cuddly toys.
I have been . . . unfaithful. I was untrue.
Those who have read my occasional odd posts about my attempts to return to playing guitar after a nearly 35 year hiatus have seen many references to the guitar I bought in 1972 or 1973, which I unpacked and started again a year later to play long detention under the stairs. The guitar, not me.
Well, my dear old Epiphone is under the stairs again. In the dark. Hopefully not gently crying.
From the very beginning I had to struggle with certain problems while playing. Certain chords that resist me, both bar and open. Recurring hand cramps that would make a far more sane person wonder where the dividing line — or time for medication — might lie between devotion and masochism, and just how far beyond that I stumbled every night as I practiced. Over the last year I’ve sometimes asked myself: Sure, a lot of it comes from being a tumbling wreck, that’s a given, but could some of it come from the instrument I play?
Last week, on my birthday — always a good day for indulging in crazy, potentially expensive ventures — after braving Walmart for the first time since the pandemic to secure new work shoes and possibly a new watch (I ended up just bought a new watch strap to replace the one held together with tiny cable ties) I went to the doctor. dr Guitar to be exact.
I laid out my weaknesses and shortcomings to him: 69 years old, small hands and fingers, arthritis, broken wrist a few years ago which left my left hand stiff and weak and asked if he had any ideas for a guitar that would do that might be easier to play. I also told him that most of the time I practiced with a two fret capo because it was easier on my hands and I could practice longer.
Here I offer warm and heartfelt praise for the local dealer who absolutely knows his stuff. I personally buy shoes because I have picky feet and need to try them on. When it came to my request for an easier-to-play guitar, the Good Doctor was The man. Over the next forty minutes I tried out several guitars: a Martin, Washburn, Takamine, Epiphone, Fender, Dean. I even tested a white and gold Gretsch that looked like it was designed with Liberace in mind and might have had a candelabra frame. The shop was full, but the doctor kept checking in on me, asking what I liked or disliked about the instrument at the moment, and finding me something else to try.
After this flurry of acoustic guitar speed-dating, I returned to one I briefly tried out at the beginning and found fascinating, a Taylor BBT-e, a smaller acoustic-electric body with a solid Sitka spruce top and walnut sides and back, Maple neck, ebony fretboard, under saddle pickup. The -e is the electrified version of a respected model they have been making for many years.
While I’m not a medically certified munchkin, I’m not a big man, and the BB – short for Big Baby – suited me well. The body is 15/16 the size of a standard guitar or 3/4 the size of a dreadnought. Narrow, narrow but not too narrow neck. Low, simple action with no buzz. I tried some of the problematic bar chords and hit most of them, all the notes sounding clean on the first try. Okay, something trickier to pick up the basic C shape as a pole up the neck. Whoa, you hit it right away! Cowboy D, can I put my pinky on that sometimes questionable high A on the E string? Why, yes I can. I played the Taylor without a capo for about half an hour trying out different fragments of tracks from Starman to Dreamboat Annie to Sail Away, Who Knows Where the Time Goes, Whiter Shade of Pale, Crane Wife and Freight Train to some my own peculiar constructions.
My hands ached a little when I stopped, but not a single cramp – although I was beginning to feel a faint warning ache in my wallet. I already loved the onboard tuner, and when the Good Doctor willingly plugged it into a Fishman acoustic guitar amp so I could hear his electric voice, I was deeply impressed.
So I told him yes, I want to start stroking this younger guitar on a regular basis. The doctor asked if I had any problems with it. When I said that I think the strings could be a bit lower towards the soundhole, he made some adjustments, then asked what strings I use on my current guitar. I said D’Addario phosphor bronze lights. He re-strung them with a new set of the same – and he got the job done in about the time it takes me to clean out the childish string packaging.
I haven’t had a single hand cramp since I started cheating on my old guitar every night, even though I play it without a capo most of the time. My bar chords are safer and faster and cleaner. Quick chord changes in more complex songs, where there might be a dozen or more to a line (Paul Simon doesn’t care if you pretzel your fingers playing some of his songs) are easier and make my playing smoother – chilled honey instead of glue. The low end isn’t quite as resonant in my chest as it was on my old Epi, but I can hit those notes harder on fast chord changes. Many reviews (read after purchase) said this was a great guitar for a finger picker and it is; My left hand may be too slow for many arpeggios, but my thumb and forefinger can still create a respectable hopscotch and produce a beautiful melody, and a full finger style sounds good enough to make me want to practice it more.
Then, a few nights later, I hooked it up to the little Fender Champion 20 modeling/effects amp I got for the electric guitar my wife found at a garage sale for $10 last year. Tweed, chorus selected and gain slightly increased for more sustain. Almost made a batch of Shorts Fudge with the big noise that came out. Plugged in, it plays cute, weird, or wicked. Oh my. I tend to play quietly, but this path is being explored further.
Okay, the guitar was a little under $600, including the soft gig bag, plus NY tax rebate. The way I figure it out, I play an average of an hour and a half most nights, call it 525 hours a year. So the guitar costs me a dollar and change an hour to play, payout in a year and a few months. Vodka supplies for later evening games are running longer than that.
Am I a $600 Guitarist? I don’t think so, but this guitar helps my playing enough that I might become one before I croak.
Final Note: I called the Good Doctor not quite a week after he helped me find the Taylor to thank him for his scholarly and excellent help in telling him that the new instrument was exactly the recipe for it , which tormented me, and made it easier and less painful to play, and I sound a little less like I’ve frozen wieners for my fingers.
He said my call made his day and his answer helped make mine.
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