It's snowing again, again. Dealing with winter in Boston makes you feel like Al Pacino trying to escape the mafia life in Godfather III; just when you think you're out of it,
it pulls you back in!Ok, confession time. This whole guitar thing just ain't going away. I bought The Mutt a few weeks back in an effort to make the hit a lot less financially painful and yet still have the thrill of a guitar purchase, however modest it may be. That bought me about a week of a peace. But it's back over the past several days and with a vengeance. Especially dangerous this time because I have come across so many legitimately good deals on great acoustic guitars via my web ramblings. I even harassed Mr. Dave to spec out a custom job from Santa Cruz. I've been researching different builders and guitar shapes and wood combos for hours on end in the down time here during spring break. It's brutal. I thought I was over all of this for at least a reasonable period of time, but just when I thought I was out,
it pulls me back in! All I know is that I'm not going to try to kid myself anymore. I want a guitar. I want a really, really good and expensive guitar. Will it make my life any better in the overall scheme of things? Well, frankly, yes it will. I know the "mature" thing to do here is to tell you that I realize that guitars aren't that important compared to the really big things in life. But if I did that I would be lying to you. Guitars are not
the most important thing, I know that. But guitars matter. Guitars matter. What can I tell you other than that? If I have to explain it, there's no reason to try.
As some already know, I have been doing the family tree thing for several years now. Amazing stuff. Here I am, a typical American mutt, nothing special. My folks have been on this continent a long time, culturally speaking. I've learned a lot of family history I did not know about before starting this project. But mostly what I have learned is what it is that makes an American. I'm an American, so I think my take has some valid insight. Regarding being American, I have never felt that I was any more of an American than the most recent person to become a citizen today. I have never connected being an American with any specific racial, ethnic, national, or inherited factors. Nor do I consider the "native Americans" to be any more native than I am. I do believe that there are certain character traits and values that are evident in the best citizens of this country, and that these character traits can be found in the best citizens of any nation when they are given the chance to flourish. That having been said, I present the most recent list of nations with which I have ancestral ties, and I must say that it is quite impressive in a muttly kind of way. My folks are from...
Scotland, England, Ireland, Wales, Pict (pre-celt british isle natives), Spain, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Holland, Belgium, France, Germany, Poland, Hungary, Italy, Russia, Greece, Syria, Central Asia, Finland, Ukraine, Armenia, Persia, Mohawk Nation, Tuscarora Nation...and wherever else they called home. Add them all together and stir. Bake in the oven of North America for 380 years. What do you get? You get an American. You get an American that wants a really, really good and expensive guitar and ain't skeered to say so.
be good.
