"Today is only yesterday's tomorrow." Uriah Heep
Here I am again, thinking that this blog will eventually be about travel, on a number of roads, physical and metaphysical--or should I say spiritual. We engage in many journeys as human beings: through our lives with all its attendant baggage, as well as to specific places, with a little less baggage. This is a good place for a wanderer, and a wonderer, and a dreamer, and someone who doesn't get much of anything done, certainly never finished.
I got out my old guitar today, "Zaven B. Woodstock" (this dates me, I know). He's in pretty rough shape, never having had a case, but I got everything tuned except the A string. The tuning peg refuses to turn beyond a certain point, so it's temporarily sitting at the low E sound with its big neighbor. Not bad for strings that are forty years old.
Zaven has a sizable dent/crack in his bottom where he landed on a rock while I was jumping over a crick (that's how we say 'creek' in Montana) in Glacier Park, or Flathead lake; I've forgotten. No case, you see.
Zaven, (named ages ago with the help of my friend from Missoula, Paula Johnson) goes way back with me. Purchased as a Christmas present my freshman year, 1968, I have dragged him around all these years--a miracle considering where I've been and what I've let go of!
I think he cost thirteen bucks--a Decca--at some department store in Great Falls. I fell in love, obviously, and Zaven has been with me longer than any of my husbands. Go figure.
So, if I can't get Zaven to cooperate at staying tuned, I'm looking at a black Ibanez if I can hear one first and touch the strings and fall in love again...but I'll not get rid of Zaven. He's still cute, for an old guy.