In the corner of my room lies a battered red electric guitar. The frets are scalloped from inexperienced fingers pressing way too hard; the varnish worn away from the fretboard as the strings vibrated against the wood as I practiced: my first guitar, discovered again, dusted off, cleaned and restrung.
So - It may not be a patch on my new American Strat Deluxe, but playing her again I'm reminded of the 26 years we've both been here. Sure - we play a bit better together now; but we've both got a way to go yet.
So, with the sad preponderance of 80's music on our 3-in 1 stereo behind us now, we play along to a more enlightened platter of genres from my iMac; and as I play I'm glad we're back together again. I smile to myself, wondering exactly why….
It's nice to know that some things improve with age, even if we're both a little worse for wear around the edges.
Maybe even me.