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Prompted by the fact that Little Bear is undergoing repairs (tuning machine is corroded and the size is odd so we're ordering it), so he went upstairs and took another classical guitar down. (And then proceeded to tell me there was another classical guitar upstairs which was really only suitable for parts. I thought Little Bear was the only classical in the house until yesterday.)
1. his favorite twelve-string, Betsy. A father's day gift when I was about three years old.
2. his favorite six-string, Ross. Yes, the patriotic names are a thing. Older than me, so I'm not sure where it came from. Currently on loan to Nephew J.
3. his Taylor, a big baby which was a Christmas gift about five years ago. Nickname is Eagle.
4. his Martin, a more recent gift, though I'm unsure of the occasion.
5. Technically my sister's guitar, but he plays it more often than she does, so an Alvarez which sits on the rack next to Little Bear.
6. A Checkmate classical guitar, unknown origin but believed to have been given to him in a pillowcase. It was either this one or the classical-for-parts.
7. A Takamine twelve-string, currently under repair after at least a decade of neglect from my uncles. It currently has only six strings on it, and all thoughts of changing strings are waiting until it can be trusted not to break.
8. Ellie, who is not my dad's guitar. She's his best friend's guitar, but seeing as we live in Massachusetts and said friend only comes up from Florida during the summer and does not have space in his car for a guitar, Ellie is effectively a member of the household.
9. My first guitar, a baby steel string which broke in half when I was approximately thirteen years old. Suitable only for parts.
10. Whichever aforementioned parts classical my dad was talking about.
11. At least one of my late aunt's guitars, which my dad refuses to talk about but my mom has repeatedly pointed out are sitting upstairs, gathering dust. I believe there are two or three of these, but I'm unsure.
12. Little Bear, who is now mine.
I know I'm missing at least one guitar, which is the worst part. (ETA: a travel-size classical. Still missing one and I know it.)
This isn't touching on all the guitars my uncles bring over. One of my mom's brothers and two of my dad's play, so at any given meet-up there can be an additional four or five guitars sitting around. Adding in my brother, my cousin, my dad's other best friend, and the woman whose guitar Little Bear originally was, I'd say we have a choice of twenty guitars for ten people when we have one of our larger bonfires.
That's weird.
1. his favorite twelve-string, Betsy. A father's day gift when I was about three years old.
2. his favorite six-string, Ross. Yes, the patriotic names are a thing. Older than me, so I'm not sure where it came from. Currently on loan to Nephew J.
3. his Taylor, a big baby which was a Christmas gift about five years ago. Nickname is Eagle.
4. his Martin, a more recent gift, though I'm unsure of the occasion.
5. Technically my sister's guitar, but he plays it more often than she does, so an Alvarez which sits on the rack next to Little Bear.
6. A Checkmate classical guitar, unknown origin but believed to have been given to him in a pillowcase. It was either this one or the classical-for-parts.
7. A Takamine twelve-string, currently under repair after at least a decade of neglect from my uncles. It currently has only six strings on it, and all thoughts of changing strings are waiting until it can be trusted not to break.
8. Ellie, who is not my dad's guitar. She's his best friend's guitar, but seeing as we live in Massachusetts and said friend only comes up from Florida during the summer and does not have space in his car for a guitar, Ellie is effectively a member of the household.
9. My first guitar, a baby steel string which broke in half when I was approximately thirteen years old. Suitable only for parts.
10. Whichever aforementioned parts classical my dad was talking about.
11. At least one of my late aunt's guitars, which my dad refuses to talk about but my mom has repeatedly pointed out are sitting upstairs, gathering dust. I believe there are two or three of these, but I'm unsure.
12. Little Bear, who is now mine.
I know I'm missing at least one guitar, which is the worst part. (ETA: a travel-size classical. Still missing one and I know it.)
This isn't touching on all the guitars my uncles bring over. One of my mom's brothers and two of my dad's play, so at any given meet-up there can be an additional four or five guitars sitting around. Adding in my brother, my cousin, my dad's other best friend, and the woman whose guitar Little Bear originally was, I'd say we have a choice of twenty guitars for ten people when we have one of our larger bonfires.
That's weird.
