Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

Have you ever been around a boy who's just bought a new guitar? If you haven't, I feel sorry for you.

After an awkward business meeting, I wandered over to the Mission District here in San Fran. As soon as I entered the pawn shop, my eyes landed on it---a beautiful, dark-stained wooden Dobro. I didn't even notice the city's poor lined up to pawn off their meager possessions, the shotgun hanging over the back office door, or the various and sundry chainsaws and cheap jewelry scattered about. I just saw IT, and only it.

I played it hard for an hour before I plunked down the $250 of hard-earned cash. Now I'm in rare form. I haven't been in this good a mood in a while, and it's all because of an impulse buy.

The Dobro guitar was designed with a metal resonator so it would be loud enough to compete with the noise produced by drums. (Mind you, this was before the electric guitar.) And it's loud as fuck! My brother set up his drums and we played together. The guitar totally held its own, giving the percussion a run for its money.

I often feel sorry for people who don't play a musical instrument. What do they do after reading or masturbating get old? For me, I'll be playing my Dobro.