On Amber Cross’s C.D. My Kind of church, she spoke of an affliction common to bluegrassers, and musicians of many forms. She called it instrument acquisition disorder, that disease which ravishes the living rooms and closets of many otherwise sensible and upright individuals, leaving them impoverished and crushed by guitar cases, with only small pathways through which to maneuver from one end of the house to the other.
I must admit, I’m a victim of this disorder.
I’m not a great lover of the banjo, but I’ve got two of them. and I play them too, when no one is listening.
It’s getting harder to walk by my bed without suffering bodily harm. Having a mandolin or a fiddle case falling on me. Tripping over a guitar case, or falling into an amplifier.
I got to thinking about it the other day….let’s see… a couple of fiddles, an accoustic mandolin, an electric mandolin, two or three accoustic guitars, an electric accoustic, an electric guitar, an autoharp, a dobra, an electric bass, a turn of the century unplayable hoener accordion, a half dozen harmonicas, and a half size cello.
Oh, and there’s the piano in the living room. And the amplifiers and the speakers and ….
No brass instruments though. Those are just plain unsanitary.
I’m a simple man. With a lot of simple friends, but I’m a one trick pony, It kills me to spend ten dollars on a pair of pants at goodwill, but If I play a fine guitar, I’m ready to take out a second mortgage to acquire it, and I’ve got a lot of friends just like me sitting perched on a pallet of cases inside a locked house trying to keep the cameramen from hoarders’ from busting down the front door.
I don’t know, but I think it’s important to have all those things. What if blue highway or Claire Lynch should show up at your front door without their instruments, and wanted to jam? What would you do if you’ve got no instruments? Would you say I’m sorry, would you like to play the spoons? No, that just wouldn’t do.
My dear friends Terry and Jeanie Ramos showed up the other day, with a beautiful console electric piano, and gave it to me. I don’t know what to say. It’s like listening to angels sing with their fingers. How in the world did I get friends like that? How in the world did I live without this thing?
And While they were here I invited some friends for a jam, and they all brought instruments, but if they hadn’t they could have used mine. I could be a boy scout. I’m prepared.
Except…
I’m still missing a doghouse bass. There’s an empty corner in my house, just in case
