I don't know about you but as much as I love my gear, every now and then i find myself being reminded of how special some of this stuff is and how gutted i would be if it were to , i don't know, lets say fall out the back of a van doing 80MPH down the motorway. After a great weekend of gigs finished off with a night of battling with the loudest DJ in the world we packed up the van and headed home. After about 15 miniutes driving a truck overtook us on the outside lane. 'He's very loud' thought I, then i had a horriific thought. I swung around and see the back door of the people carier we were in wide open like the worlds biggest spoiler. I shrieked like a 6 year old girl, "THE BACK DOOR'S OPEN!!" Doug casualy pulls the van over and jumps out. "Jees Dan, you're lucky, your guitar was hanging a foot outside the van". I felt sick. Writing this, i feel sick. I could just see it happening so vividly, this incredible guitar that has survived half a century finaly meeting its demise shattering into 1000 pieces on the M25.
Today I have been cradling my guitar rocking back and forth like a mental patient who's taken just a bit too much diazapan. - there there, it was all just a dream
Its wierd but these little things can give you a new perspective on the joy of great tone. Had my guitar been destroyed last night i would have been talking about all the wonderful moments i had with it, now i'm just looking forward to enjoying it even more. I will only ever play this guitar a finite number of times. I will only ever get 'that sound' a finite number of times.
We're hear for a good time, not a long time, so make your tone time count.