Saturday, January 22, 2011

So, stay right here. These are the good ol' days.

A few days ago I felt like Carly Simon.
Yup.
I walked into a music store and got the strangest looks.
'Not that I'm famous like Carly, but I was a novelty.
Someone from back in the day.
'Like being the Grateful Dead resurrected or something.
It was kind of uncomfortable.

I think
I should feel at home in a music store.
After all, I worked in one back in the day.
I spent many days stringing and tuning guitars.
I gave lessons and had my own guitar.

Guitars were my friends.

There in that store I saw
them, all hung in neat rows.
Guitar after guitar greeted me.
My old friends....

Only the young men working there didn't know that.

As uncomfortable as I felt, it was kind of funny.
"Could I help you find something," one young man asked.
He was friendly, but I got the distinct impression he thought I was going to say, "I have no idea. I came in for my son..."
or, "I teach music and I need..." I have taught music, and done that.
The help is eager to comply. "Ah, she's a teacher. Ok. Of course."

But, no.
I was looking for supplies for my guitar.
That is a different story.

I mentioned maybe buying a new guitar strap.
I told the young man, "Mine is pretty old. It's from the seventies."
His eyes got big.
"Wow. I'd love to have a guitar strap from the seventies."

I paused.
I thought.
I felt like a walking museum with access to the Mona Lisa.

I looked at the guitar straps.
I decided I'd keep mine. My seventies strap is actually pretty fine.

I asked for guitar strings.
I have my favorite.
Maybe I was imagining, but I think the young man looked at me in surprise.

I asked for picks and was looking around the counter (when I worked at
a music store we had picks - different shapes and colors (including psychedelic) - in a large bowl - it was fun to go throught the bowl and choose several.)
He showed me the rack behind the counter.
Small bags of picks.
Ok. Well, I wanted the fine picks.
Boring.
I chose the red ones.

Once again, maybe I imagined that look of surprise.

Before I left I had to look at the music books.
There I saw, Aerosmith, James Taylor, The Allman Brothers Band, Dave Miller Band, Bob Dylan, Steely Dan...I'll stop there.

Times have changed, but then again...

I fit right in. These were my guys.
They filled a large portion of the section for music books (Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell).

I reminsced as I looked through the books.
Those were the days my friend.
We sat in the park playing our guitars.
I played in bands, alone, on the road, in churches, anywhere and everywhere.
My guitar taught me to play a love song.
John Denver and all the other guys lined up on those shelves helped.

When I got ready to leave, I noticed all the young men behind the counter.
They smiled.
A relic.
Was that how they saw me.


I didn't feel so out of place.
I'm part of an era that is ageless.
No matter how many years pass, we remain young at heart.
Our music doesn't grow old,  it gets better with age.

I smiled at the young men behind the counter as I left.
I don't know what they were thinking.
But, it's ok.

I'm gonna rock on.

Who knows...
Maybe....
just maybe,  they secretly wanted my autograph.