BTW, I've been MIA from the forum for a couple years now so I gotta tell you guys and gals about something really cool that happened to me guitar-wise.
I met this Scottish bloke from Chicago awhile back, an old hippy who lived in San Francisco in the 60's and used to run around with Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters, The Grateful Dead, etc. He's now a 70 year old retired electrical engineer.
He's played guitar since he was 7 or 8...basically for so long that he doesn't even remember learning. How cool is that? He knew I had a fairly cheap Les Paul asked if I'd be interested in a Fender Strat instead. Thinking that he was about to offer me one for sale, I said I probably wouldn't be in the market for one, but I appreciated the offer. I didn't tell him that I'd actually love to buy one, but my wife would kill me if I bought even another cheapo guitar at this point, let alone a Stratocaster. However, before I could even think such a thing, he replied with, "I didn't ask if you wanted to buy one, did I?"
His collection contains about 30 guitars, and he's never sold an instrument his entire life. Ever. I was not aware of this until afterwards. He also told me that one of his worst fears is that his guitars will be auctioned off when he dies, ending up in the hands of people who may not even play them.
When he offered to give me a 1956 Fender Custom Shop Strat, it completely blew my mind. I've never experienced that sort of generosity, especially not lately. I honestly thought I might wake up in a few minutes, cursing at the heavens for sending such a cruel dream to taunt me. But no. It was real.
Just to give a little more perspective: The guitar is worth 4 grand. That's more money than I personally made all of last year since I'm disabled. Not that I would ever even consider selling it, but just to give you an idea of its monetary value. But much more importantly, it has incredible soul and it represents the man's character. That's much, much more valuable to me than having $4000 in my pocket. To me, it's priceless.
He said he heard something in my playing, and he could tell that I would treasure that Strat everyday for the rest of my life. To hear someone say that, especially a guy like that, really, really means a lot. Anyway, he's really one of the coolest people on the face of this planet. I could listen to his stories for hours. Unfortunately though, I don't live near Chicago any more and I could only visit him for a day when I picked up the guitar as my wife had to be back home the very same night for work the next day (she's a busy gal).
The only thing I had to do was promise never to sell it and to pass it down as an heirloom, as he had passed it down to me. What an honor! That's almost like receiving the family sword...I'm still pinching myself.
Here's me playing a little improv blues: