4.The Great Guitar Debate

This section can only get me in trouble. Your first guitar is like your first lover, the memory of every square centimeter of its body becomes firmly entrenched deep within uncharted areas of your cranium. When it becomes time to move on, upgrade to a better instrument. It’s like breaking up- a period of remorse, emptiness followed by the euphoria, excitement, and frustration to find a new guitar,- - -
The two national commercially produced guitars, vying for the coveted, America’s guitar accolade appear to be Martin and Taylor. I live ten miles away from El Cajon, home to Taylor Guitars. One would think that this proximity would skew my
preferences.I also lived in Pennsylvania for close to ten years at least one hundred miles away from Nazareth, Martin’s home town. However, I never made the pilgrimage to the factory. But when push comes to shove- I would have to proclaim Martin
the Harley Davidson of American made guitars. Some might think that this is a dubious entitlement, but Harley has worked hard to maintain their distinctive sound albeit has Martin.
My first guitar a1950Martin 00018 was passed to me by my very 1st guitar mentor, my father, actually I just grabbed it whenever I wanted to play it and at times was reticent to return it back to him. My mother supposedly pawned her engagement ring to make a down payment on the guitar, rendering the instrument beyond priceless. Every Sunday while my mother, a devout catholic, went to mass my father, a devout other than catholic, would sit in their bedroom and go through his litany of western songs. He would sit on the corner of their bed, wearing a baby-blue, tattered, ripped, terrycloth bathrobe singing-strumming and yodeling his way through the likes of , “oh Gualala, wreck of the old 97, tumbling tumble weeds. Not to deny our friends south of the border, my dad also attempted Mariachi music.He did a memorable command performance of ‘Guadalahara’ at the age of 94 just a couple of months ago.
One guitar, two players, one seasoned well versed in many genres and right handed, the other a rookie sweating his way through ‘Puff the Magic Dragon, and south pawed. The solution was inevitable, turn the guitar upside down. My right hand or that part of the brain that controls the right hand recognizes the feel of a Martin neck and can probably identify what fret we’re at from behind
Enough of this ranting and raving, I’m possibly alienating too many of you.Guilds, Gibsons, Breedloves are all excellent instruments. Remember the tenet,
'America's Guitar' on a commercial production scale. Disagree?--Let me know. I will reply.
Stay in tune,
mike