Saturday, November 5, 2016
November 5, 2016 Yesterday I wrote about giving thanks in everything, and how that played out when I snapped the neck of my bass. Here's the rest of the story. I took the broken bass to Monaco's in Amherst, about an hour and a half's drive. He is a master luthier, and believes it is fixable, so it's in his capable hands. On the way home, I got to thinking about what exactly in all this I was thankful for (I know, that's not good grammar, but it'll have to do). Three things came to mind: 1) It's fixable. 2) the fix is affordable. 3) I was the one who broke it, and not someone else. Had someone else broken it, it would have been harder to swallow. 4) (I never said I was good at math) It wasn't a vintage instrument. I had almost closed on a 1948 Kay bass before I got this one. Mine is a standard workhorse instrument. It's repairable. Breaking a vintage instrument is another matter altogether. I would have been heartsick for months. But even with these ruminations, I still didn't have a bass for the concert Monday. I texted my bass instructor who sent word out to his college students, hoping for a loaner. Then this afternoon, just before a wonderful play put on by our granddaughter Madeline's middle school, our daughter Jessie texted Bill Eckman, who owns Germaine and Poppalardo music in Jamestown. Grandson Ian takes guitar lessons from Bill, and I've known him for years, a quiet and unassuming, but masterful musician and teacher. When I began taking bass lessons, I had asked Bill if he had any rentals available, but he didn't, so it never occurred to ask him about an instrument today. Bill texted back that he would lend me his own personal bass for the weekend. I've tried it out, and it plays beautifully, much more easily than mine. It will be the Christian thing to do to give it back, and I will be, and am thankful tonight for Bill and his generosity.