Three chords and the truth... and a solid mahogany Martin D15
[pic by CH]
I was planning to use my winnings from the poetry prize to pay off half my credit card, because I like the romance in 'rhyming my way out of debt', but then I turned my back on romance and bought half a guitar instead.
"You play guitar like Daddy," said my nephew Otto, rolling his eyes at my C-G-D combinations and trying to teach me bar chords instead.
"That's country music for you though, Otto," I shrugged, secretly pleased that he was comparing me to my brother, the greatest man who ever walked the earth. "All you need is three chords and the truth, right?"
Right. Three chords and the truth and a solid mahogany Martin D15. It cost a thousand euro and it's way, way out of my league but really who cares when it plays like falling in love and it smells like Nowhere, Tennessee.
9 comments:
Well put, Annie. She looks like a beauty.
New Guitar - Happy Days!
Ooh, beautiful. Good decision x
Happy days alright.
Sarah, let's play together sometime. And when I say 'let's play together' what I really mean is you teach me everything you know for free.
i am sure that nancy griffiths sings about a martin guitar somewhere along the way. is that the road you are going down with the country music. It's more west texas to me than nowhere tennessee.
Country music and poetry it is the same thing
Ant
Good for you Annie I'm sure you'll love your new Martin. Iv'e got three of them.
THREE! Mon dieu.
You know what, I do love it. I swear it's making me play better and practise more just because it's so nice to touch. And I reckon I've probably saved a grand already by not drinking n smoking this summer so I deserve it.
Ant: Nancy Griffith is good with me.
I once hit my younger brother with my guitar when I was really pissed off with him. Maybe don't do that with this one, yeah?
Yay! You bought it!! Leave it Lola has a proper instrument!
Lovely, lovely guitars,
I spent an annual bonus that could have been more sensibly deployed on the mundane and long forgotten 10 years ago now, but my Martin Rosewood Auditorium was a wiser move.
But smells of Nowhere, Tenessee?
Surely Nazareth, Pennsylvania. A more northern home of bluer music, and home of Martin guitars - and named for a great Welshman too.
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