The stories behind important Objects in your life

In My Humble Opinion
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I have a fresh one with a new/old guitar, but while musical instruments are a special category, folks can have stories behind every kind of object. What’s yours? (if this stays focused on instruments, or, say kitchen knives, I could see it in Cafe Society under “artist’s tools” but hoping to keep it broader…?

Here’s the story I posted on the Acoustic Guitar Forum. Your first “grown-up” guitar is a big deal - like, say, sex ;): good, bad, whatever, it becomes part of your story for life. Enjoy.

I have a fresh one: I was in California, where I’m from. My family was with my mom in the Monterey area. One day, my 78-old mom, who plays uke, went with my guitar-playing son and I up to Santa Cruz to check out guitar stores.

The first one was Steve’s Guitar Post. A charming, almost-pawn-shop-in-a-good-way place. Within seconds, my son pulled down a 1958 Harmony h1215 archtop. He was all over it immediately. I played it - it sounded good, had a straight neck. For an archie, quite strummable. As my son said, it sounds like a flattop recorded through a Gramophone. $225. Repaired top crack - very well done - and a bit of glue, I assume reglued, at the neck joint. But very stable.

I was worried about the niche-ness of an archie, nonetheless. And you never focus on the first guitar - you note it and keep moving. He got great grades his sophomore year, so we were discussing a Gibson J-35 - he is a great player. This trip was for my mom to hang with her music boys.

We went to Starving Musicians, then grabbed some great tacos. Then we headed to Sylvan Music, to check out the high end and vintage stuff.

Then my mom fell.

She was on her way back to the restroom and missed a small 3-inch step. Noone’s fault - things happen. Strong bones! Bruised a hip, but dislocated a pinky.

It wouldn’t reseat, so we headed to the urgent care place close by. They couldn’t do anything at first either.

After an hour, she came out and said they needed to take an x-ray. She turned to me and said “Take Jake back to the guitar shop to check out that guitar. I’ll be fine.”

So we did. He was working me hard as he checked it out. “It’s gotta lot of songs in it, Dad.” he says. I got it for a good deal and it would ship in a few days.

My mom is fine - minor surgery and the stitches are already out. She’ll be back to the uke in a few days.

The guitar just arrived today. We spent the morning getting the bridge in place, intonated, messing with the tuning keys to get them moving, adjusting the action. I holds a tuning amazingly well and sounds like a flattop recorded through a Gramophone. My son is downstairs right now finishing the first song he wrote on it. He called his grandma today - it was her birthday - to thank her for sending me back with him. Nice gift .

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I’m a fellow musician who came down with a rare condition called hyperacusis, which is basically a hyper-sensitivity to sound.

For 15 months, I locked myself in my bedroom listening to pink noise all day on Apple earbuds. It was the only way to properly rehabilitate.

Those earbuds are hanging in a display in my living room.

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Several things -
First is a cluster of items - the wedding china, crystal and silver from my great, great great [I think it is 3, 1830] grandparents wedding - brought over from various sources in Europe specifically for them as a gift from her parents. We no longer have the barrels and chests they came over in but we do have the reciepts. I can just barely afford the fine arts policy on the damned things, but I am not selling them off!

Secondly, a roll top desk belonging to my great grandfather. Classic one with all the little compartments, pigeon holes and drawers and an intact waste paper bin that is fit in some sort of holder in the leg well. No picture of it right now, I keep meaning to take one now that it needs to be added to the policy, purchased in 1892.

Thirdly, a Stickley Morris chair similar to this one, though the leather is a bit darker. Still in absolutely perfect condition, also belonged to my great grandfather, purchased in 1903. I eventually plan on getting the modern matching footstool.

I have a liking of Stickley - or perhaps I should amend it to be I have a liking for Arts and Crafts, Art Deco and Art Nouveau. I love large, clunky annoying turn of the last century houses with nooks and crannies, and interesting architecture [i hate [little boxes](Little Boxes - Wikipedia)of ticky tacky.] I want a large kitchen with a pantry, and a butlers pantry, and a servants day room. I want the formal dining room, the library, the formal parlor and the sitting room/morning room. I want the bedrooms, and the attics and the basements. I would be fantastically happy with Downton Abbey [and the income, and I can deal with the servant problem] Unlike the jackasses they used, we would have been perfectly functional in 1900 House. [And boy do I have some rants about THAT series.]

The only reason I am not trying to get more of the antiques in the family when my Mom finally passes is that while the assortment of seriously good pieces Mom and Dad inherited from the paternal side, or collected at auction are in general nice, I don’t really feel a link with them and they can be sold at auction and the money split between my brother and I, and I can start collecting to my own specific taste. I just feel particularly close to the desk and chair, and the dinnerware was always coming to me, and my brother has a different set of stuff that came to him, and he picked out a few pieces that he wanted so our choices are listed in the will. Prevents arguing =)