A Boy And His Bass
A MENAGERIE OF INSTRUMENTS
For the past couple years, I've had a not-so-secret longing. Like a guilty porn addict, I've been stealing glances at websites, lingering around the edges of eBay auctions, all the while knowing that I shouldn't.
I wanted a bass guitar.
In high school I was in a rock band (for more on that take a look at my last post), and I played bass guitar. When I went off to college, I stopped playing. For a time, I had my bass and rig in my apartment bedroom, and would occasionally plug up at low volumes and play with myself. But, as the last line implies, that wasn't enough, so I let it go.
I sold off my gear to my friend Brian (the rhythm guitarist for our band who switched to bass to play in a college punk trio), and that was the last of it.
Interestingly enough, in the intervening years (fifteen to be exact), I hadn't really longed to play again. Sure, I missed it, but I'd found lots of other things to occupy my time (mainly drinking). Then, a few years ago, I found myself on Musician's Friend dreaming about buying a really nice bass, one light-years better than my old fret-buzzing Washburn.
When I let my wife in on this re-ignited passion, I think she was at first amused. We talked about it, and out of that talk, I changed my mind. It went something like this:
Music is good.
Musical instruments are great to have.
Guitar players are sexy.
A bass guitar, while sexy when played in a band, isn't very practical.
Acoustic guitars are more practical because you don't need amps.
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