Mr. Niceguy
09-23-2012, 19:34
The coolest thing I could have imagined happened to me tonight.
I began playing the string bass at the age of eight in the school orchestra, and with all the great rock bass guitar influences in the mid 1970's, my interests quickly turned to the electric bass. I was elated when in 1978 my parents bought me a bass guitar for my tenth birthday - a Matsumoku neck-through, branded under the name Memphis. I played it constantly up in my bedroom, with friends in garage bands here and there, and at the occasional informal gig. With my bass in my hands, I was Gene Simmons, Geddy Lee, and John Paul Jones combined, at least in my own mind. I sold my bass in 1987 for $50 just before shipping out for Ft. Benning, thinking my playing days were over.
As it turned out, my playing days continued years later and to this day, mainly for my own personal enjoyment, and as a form of meditation. I've got a handful of nice and very playable basses, but have missed my old bass for quite some time. For the past several years, I would occasionally search the web/ebay, etc. for a bass like my old one, thinking I might pick one up if I ever ran across it, just to satisfy my nostalgia. It turns out that not only could I not locate one for sale, but couldn't even find a photo of that model on the web. I had pretty much given up hope of even catching a glimpse of a bass like mine ever again.
I was surprised this evening when a half-hearted search revealed a bass just like my old one for sale on ebay. It was a trip down memory lane just seeing the pictures. I was also amazed at the price these things seemed to command these days. I grudgingly decided that a replica of my childhood was not worth the asking price, and I meant it.
Not ready to let go of the memories just yet, I continued to gaze at the photos. I zoomed in to better see all the details that were buried so far in the back of my mind, when I saw a very distinct and familiar blemish on the guitar. It was a mark I put there thirty years ago in a moment of clumsiness. This was my old bass, complete in the original case, three states away. I was now prepared to pay the full asking price, but chanced an offer that was quickly accepted by the seller. It will be in transit to me tomorrow.
When it arrives, I'm going to string it up with the same GHS Boomers it wore, and that sounded so thunderous on it, so many years ago. I'm going to rest it on my knee, and play it into the long hours of the night. But this time I won't be imagining myself to be some rock icon. I'll be that ten year old me, just as excited to hold it as I was the very first time.
I can't wait.
I began playing the string bass at the age of eight in the school orchestra, and with all the great rock bass guitar influences in the mid 1970's, my interests quickly turned to the electric bass. I was elated when in 1978 my parents bought me a bass guitar for my tenth birthday - a Matsumoku neck-through, branded under the name Memphis. I played it constantly up in my bedroom, with friends in garage bands here and there, and at the occasional informal gig. With my bass in my hands, I was Gene Simmons, Geddy Lee, and John Paul Jones combined, at least in my own mind. I sold my bass in 1987 for $50 just before shipping out for Ft. Benning, thinking my playing days were over.
As it turned out, my playing days continued years later and to this day, mainly for my own personal enjoyment, and as a form of meditation. I've got a handful of nice and very playable basses, but have missed my old bass for quite some time. For the past several years, I would occasionally search the web/ebay, etc. for a bass like my old one, thinking I might pick one up if I ever ran across it, just to satisfy my nostalgia. It turns out that not only could I not locate one for sale, but couldn't even find a photo of that model on the web. I had pretty much given up hope of even catching a glimpse of a bass like mine ever again.
I was surprised this evening when a half-hearted search revealed a bass just like my old one for sale on ebay. It was a trip down memory lane just seeing the pictures. I was also amazed at the price these things seemed to command these days. I grudgingly decided that a replica of my childhood was not worth the asking price, and I meant it.
Not ready to let go of the memories just yet, I continued to gaze at the photos. I zoomed in to better see all the details that were buried so far in the back of my mind, when I saw a very distinct and familiar blemish on the guitar. It was a mark I put there thirty years ago in a moment of clumsiness. This was my old bass, complete in the original case, three states away. I was now prepared to pay the full asking price, but chanced an offer that was quickly accepted by the seller. It will be in transit to me tomorrow.
When it arrives, I'm going to string it up with the same GHS Boomers it wore, and that sounded so thunderous on it, so many years ago. I'm going to rest it on my knee, and play it into the long hours of the night. But this time I won't be imagining myself to be some rock icon. I'll be that ten year old me, just as excited to hold it as I was the very first time.
I can't wait.