Back in the day I lent a really nice, new guitar that I’d saved up for, to a friend for only one afternoon. He promised he’d take super care of it, won’t get dinged, wouldn’t even use a pick, etc. etc.
Came back to me with deep pick scratches, sticky from who-knows-what, a mess!
I asked, “How could you let this happen to my new, perfect guitar?”
He looked at me like I was from Mars.
“It’s JUST a guitar,” he said (as my head exploded).
I was so pissed, I couldn’t even look at it afterward without being even more pissed, and sold it a few days later. I’m steaming all over again just thinking about it.
Many years later, he was over at my studio (friendships not being worth destroying over mere guitars) and he wanted to play one of my Private Stocks. I said, “Not. A. Chance.”
He was visibly offended, and said, “Hey, It’s not like I’m going to mess it up.”
As I was putting it in its case trying to get it as far away from his mitts as possible, I said, “Nah, you don’t need to play it. It’s just a guitar.”
