This is one of those little stories that might have limited appeal, but I wanted to share it with you. My friend and fellow picker Michael Kaye has found the guitar of his dreams. Like many of us Michael's been searching for many years for that one axe that just "speaks to you". What the guitar usually says is "Take me home, I was made just for you." or often it confides "I've been waiting 20 (or 30, or 50) years for you to find me. Sometimes (just like in love) we find that one special wooden friend and lose them. Sadly I lost my 1960 Epiphone Texan in order to pay the rent, and a few years later sold my 1944 D-18 through sheer greed. Being older and wiser I don't plan on letting anyone else have "Woody" my 50 year old 0-18.

Well, Michael met the "gal" of his dreams (he's in his 50s, so that's a lot of dreamin') about a month ago. She's a 1950 D-28 that would make any red-blooded man drool.(I suspect a few red-blooded women may drool as well, but let's keep this clean)

His playing is cleaner and sharper than I've ever seen, and he's obviously in love. The sound is glorious. He's one very happy guitarist.

Rick