Yesterday I gave away a D-18
Apr 20, 2020 11:04:46 GMT -5
Cornflake, majorminor, and 9 more like this
Post by AlanC on Apr 20, 2020 11:04:46 GMT -5
Yup. Had no intention of doing so till it happened.
Main Backstory:
Jeff Lumpkin, an old friend of mine from way, way back in Junior High days was a pretty good picker. In 1973 or 74 he bought a D-18 after using my Dad's old Fender box for a while. That was back in our Tony Rice/Doc Watson/Norman Blake infatuation days.
Jeff had addiction problems and the poor Martin suffered along with its owner often spending the night(s) outside. Jeff's beautiful wife from high school days finally had enough and left him taking his two sons eventually marrying a local doctor. I saw the boys enough so that they knew me and as they grew they had some of their dad's addiction problems.
Jeff never kicked his habits eventually dying several years back from various complications. He had stopped playing a good while back and so I asked about his Martin. I think I posted about it back then getting some grief from someone about having warranty work done- as Jeff was the original owner- and then buying it.
I had it a few years and then when Jerry had his stroke and I stopped playing very much it started it's long sojourn in a closet at my parent's old house (along with my Telecaster, Yamaha acoustic/electric, and my amps). Honestly I had never "bonded" with that guitar. It was always Jeff's guitar to me and never mine even though I paid him $600 for it.
I recently started playing again but had left Mississippi without a guitar. I remembered I had left my Dad's old notch head Fender box in Florida and found it under a bed at my daughter's house. I got a strap, some picks, and a capo off Amazon and started playing.
Secondary Backstory: My dad and his brothers and sister had a family band in Fresno way back in the late forties. They played dances and house parties. He had a red "F Hole" something or other that got stepped on by some woman at a party. I never did get the details because my dad never liked having conversations with me for whatever reason. Anyway, about 1970 or 71 my Mom bought him the Fender box but he never played it. I picked it up and played it in church and after I quit congregating only putting it aside when I bought my Martin DM (after hearing how good Jerry's DM sounded). After I got Jeff's D-18 I sold the DM but now wish I hadn't.
Anyway, I retrieved the Fender and have enjoyed playing it. It has one of those cheap ass adjustable saddles with screws on either side that will raise or lower it. I have the strings all the way down. It is very easy to play and doesn't buzz even though they are really down low. Very playable.
So yesterday. I am on the deck outside playing my Dad's old Fender. I put on my cheater glasses and give it a good look. Aside from the stupid adjustable saddle it's really not a bad guitar for a cheapie. I'm no spring chicken so I don't see that I will ever buy or need another so the Martin is just going to sit there in the humidity and gather mold. I then thought about Jeff's boys and realize that they should have his guitar. But at that point I'm thinking "sell" not "give". I mention it to Faithful Wife who immediately tells me what a jerk I am that they shouldn't have to pay $600 for their dead father's guitar. But... but...I paid $600... "You don't need the money, give them back their dad's guitar." (she didn't add "you asshole" but it was there)
So I call an old friend who married their Mom's sister to inquire about them. I wasn't going to give it to them if they were still druggies. He assured me they were clean and all doing well. So I called the oldest, Courtney and asked him if he wanted his Dad's Martin. He was very excited and said they didn't have anything from him. My only stipulation was that they didn't sell it and he assured me they wouldn't.
I then made arrangements for my Brother in Law go get it out of the closet and set it on the back porch and then had my friend (their uncle-in-law) to go get it and hold on to it until they can get back to Mississippi and retrieve it.
So, vaya con dios Kermit (my name for the Martin- Kermit was Jeff's dad and all his long time buddies used that as his nickname). Sorry I never bonded with you but it just wasn't meant to be. (Wish I had my DM back... that WAS my guitar). Oh well, The Fender feels like mine so at least I have that.
Main Backstory:
Jeff Lumpkin, an old friend of mine from way, way back in Junior High days was a pretty good picker. In 1973 or 74 he bought a D-18 after using my Dad's old Fender box for a while. That was back in our Tony Rice/Doc Watson/Norman Blake infatuation days.
Jeff had addiction problems and the poor Martin suffered along with its owner often spending the night(s) outside. Jeff's beautiful wife from high school days finally had enough and left him taking his two sons eventually marrying a local doctor. I saw the boys enough so that they knew me and as they grew they had some of their dad's addiction problems.
Jeff never kicked his habits eventually dying several years back from various complications. He had stopped playing a good while back and so I asked about his Martin. I think I posted about it back then getting some grief from someone about having warranty work done- as Jeff was the original owner- and then buying it.
I had it a few years and then when Jerry had his stroke and I stopped playing very much it started it's long sojourn in a closet at my parent's old house (along with my Telecaster, Yamaha acoustic/electric, and my amps). Honestly I had never "bonded" with that guitar. It was always Jeff's guitar to me and never mine even though I paid him $600 for it.
I recently started playing again but had left Mississippi without a guitar. I remembered I had left my Dad's old notch head Fender box in Florida and found it under a bed at my daughter's house. I got a strap, some picks, and a capo off Amazon and started playing.
Secondary Backstory: My dad and his brothers and sister had a family band in Fresno way back in the late forties. They played dances and house parties. He had a red "F Hole" something or other that got stepped on by some woman at a party. I never did get the details because my dad never liked having conversations with me for whatever reason. Anyway, about 1970 or 71 my Mom bought him the Fender box but he never played it. I picked it up and played it in church and after I quit congregating only putting it aside when I bought my Martin DM (after hearing how good Jerry's DM sounded). After I got Jeff's D-18 I sold the DM but now wish I hadn't.
Anyway, I retrieved the Fender and have enjoyed playing it. It has one of those cheap ass adjustable saddles with screws on either side that will raise or lower it. I have the strings all the way down. It is very easy to play and doesn't buzz even though they are really down low. Very playable.
So yesterday. I am on the deck outside playing my Dad's old Fender. I put on my cheater glasses and give it a good look. Aside from the stupid adjustable saddle it's really not a bad guitar for a cheapie. I'm no spring chicken so I don't see that I will ever buy or need another so the Martin is just going to sit there in the humidity and gather mold. I then thought about Jeff's boys and realize that they should have his guitar. But at that point I'm thinking "sell" not "give". I mention it to Faithful Wife who immediately tells me what a jerk I am that they shouldn't have to pay $600 for their dead father's guitar. But... but...I paid $600... "You don't need the money, give them back their dad's guitar." (she didn't add "you asshole" but it was there)
So I call an old friend who married their Mom's sister to inquire about them. I wasn't going to give it to them if they were still druggies. He assured me they were clean and all doing well. So I called the oldest, Courtney and asked him if he wanted his Dad's Martin. He was very excited and said they didn't have anything from him. My only stipulation was that they didn't sell it and he assured me they wouldn't.
I then made arrangements for my Brother in Law go get it out of the closet and set it on the back porch and then had my friend (their uncle-in-law) to go get it and hold on to it until they can get back to Mississippi and retrieve it.
So, vaya con dios Kermit (my name for the Martin- Kermit was Jeff's dad and all his long time buddies used that as his nickname). Sorry I never bonded with you but it just wasn't meant to be. (Wish I had my DM back... that WAS my guitar). Oh well, The Fender feels like mine so at least I have that.
