Romancing the Tone
I’ve totally lost interest in you my dear. Yes, after 50 years of fondling you and stroking you and listening to your imperfect sounds, I’m done!!
I put you down, all of you, Fender, Gibson, Ibanez, hollow, solid, semi too!
Done, You don’t do it for me anymore.
We never really worked all that well together—(i forgot to mention Yamaha’s). I never did you justice and you fought me all the way. Thank my Lord that it was not all guitars that helped me up, kept me sane—it was another voice too, I could sing.
I’ve committed adultery on two wives for the better part of those 50 years.
I was romancing the tone until my ears died and now are now gone.
Mind and memory are shot from shots, lines and beer and wine. Who needed school and lessons? My quest was never clear but always calling from afar to somewhere.
I followed her from New Jersey, New York, Florida, Tennessee, California, Minnesota, Canada and a dreadful week in Freeport in the Bahamas’. I gigged in zip codes before there were places to have zip codes, or even area codes for that matter.
Now I get diarrhea before the gig.
I still do the same songs, (always with passion while in the hot seat) but I’m the packed up first and out the door, in my house, taking my pills, jumpin in my bed and reading a book while the others are still having one more for the road. Oh yeah, we were hot, did it alto, we grooved, but I’m dead to it all now.
She’s done with me and I’m done with her. The once young temptress has aged and is tired just like me.
We had our fun honey but now it’s done,
I’ve a new love…….