The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #99617   Message #1987040
Posted By: wysiwyg
05-Mar-07 - 11:48 AM
Thread Name: Guitar: Working vs Performance
Subject: RE: Guitar: Working vs Performance
I think it's Jed Marum who has what I think is the healthiest attitude about his gigging guitars I've seen around here-- that intrinsically, it's a tool for work. A beloved and well-cared-for tool, but tools need to be replaced from time to time and STUFF HAPPENS to them. I think his approach is to put the good ones in a Calton case, and let the airlines do what they will. Maybe they are insured, also-- have you looked into getting the Martin insured? Or are you at least putting part of the gig money away against the day you need to replace the Martin?

If it makes you feel any better, I drop my good autoharp on the floor from time to time-- hard, when the strap clip opens up as it sometimes does. I'll sliong the case over my shoulder and start off, and hear the THUD behind me as the whole case goes south. I LOVE that harp, but it's going to crack one of these times, and then? I'll have to love a new one. Cuz other than this strap clip thing, I really like that case! :~)

There are all kinds of tricks you can try to reduce the anxiety over this, but it has to start with taking your klutziness less seriously. It IS a serious problem, but treating it seriously will only reinforce it. No matter how klutzy you are by genetic inheritance, you're only going to get klutzier (and more anxious) the more you worry about it and the less you let the poor thing out in company.

You could try working your way up to resolving this, and get some more of the cheapies to handle in a playful, carefree manner so you can giggle the fears away while talking to the martin safe in its cse, nearby. "Hey, Marty, this may be your last day! "I may bust you to flinders in less than an hour!"

You also could try immediately getting an even better good guitar to lock away "in case" you wreck the Martin, to reduce the apparent importance of the Martin in your mind.

~Susan