We Keep No Secrets


Alley Wall Drawing in Cihangir, Turkey

This is a day I won't ever forget.  I took my Martin to Elderly Instruments to get repaired.  The man who diagnosed the problems that needed addressing was very nice.  He knew what he was talking about, but it didn't make it any easier to swallow.

The diagnosis?  Reset the neck.  Glue loose x-brace. Glue loose binding. Repair pick guard area.  Re-fret the first seven frets, restring the guitar and get it ready for me to pick up.  GULP!!  

This is my baby.  My first born.  My baby blanket, my pacifier.  My lover.  My best friend. 

When I signed the repair sheet I asked the guy, "You will treat it like a baby, won't you?"  

He said, "We do this all the time, it will be okay."  (he actually showed compassion for me)

Heidi went with me today.  We drove to Lansing. (Elderly Instruments is on Washington Ave.)  I was glad I had her with me.  She hugged me twice, reassuring me and yet understanding my anxiety about leaving my baby.





We stopped at a little coffee shop a block away when we left Elderly.  Heidi ordered us a shot of expresso with foam.  It took the edge of anxiety away and made me feel a little pampered.  She offered me her guitar until my baby returns in February.  I think I'll get through this trauma of the heart.  

I wonder what songs the repair people will play on it when it is finished being repaired?  I'm sure it will speak to me in when it returns.  We keep no secrets.

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