People have got to stop leaving guitars in the trunk. For the last few weeks, I've been given a lot of guitars to repair and when i pick them up i can feel heat radiating from the bodies. Few things make me more indignant. I promise.

Imagine my horror when holding a markedly warm Circa 1965 3/4 scale Fender Duo-Sonic II. Concieved as a Student model in the '50s, the Duo-sonic was redesigned in the mid '60s to closely resemble Fender's other short-scale "student model", the Mustang.

This beautiful 40+ year old guitar was so hot that i streaked my finger across the body and condensation covered it. Shocked, dismayed, heartbroken, and hungry all describe my demeanor. After i chided them for leaving the guitar in the car- all morning- I agreed to re-string only under the condition that they solemnly swear never to do it again. Gleefully, they accepted. Scouts honor and all of that.

I waited for the guitar to cool up to room temp, then deep-cleaned the body, pickguard and chrome control plate, all while waiting for the lemon oil i rubbed into the rosewood fingerboard to dry. "Ahh... you're thirsty", i cooed.

The restring was uneventful at best, but still a pleasure. It's not everyday that i find myself working on such a valuable and downright cool instrument. The pack, which consisted of a mother and two or three kids (i was distracted, obviously). The 15 year old, who was interested in learning to play the guitar, stood by as his mother gave me the history of this highly-prized piece:

"My husband died a few years back and this was his guitar. He bought it new, i don't know when, but he played this thing every day. He (the 15 year-old) always loved when his dad played, so he wants to learn."

Not only was i proud to do the work, but i was glad to show them some guitar amps as well. They needed one, badly. Now, the kid really likes bands like Ozzy and Disturbed, and i flat-out told him, "You're not going to be getting that sound out of this guitar." I told him that at some point, if he's really wanting that staccato metal sound, he's gonna have to look into another model of guitar. Then i made him make another promise:

"Just promise me that, no matter what, you're never going to sell this guitar."
"Okay."
"No, no, no. I'm totally serious. This is your pension plan."
"Ohhhhhhhh. Yeah. Okay!"
"Cool."

I played some amps, and the family made me feel right at home, letting me know that they saw the passion with which i play. I told them that music is one of the greatest material joys i have in life, which is totally true. The mother remarked, "That's obvious."

I set them up with a Line 6 amp, and although they aren't my favourites they're perfectly suited to someone just getting into things; If the player doesn't yet have 'that sound' in their head, these products can be great tools to get there.

Now, even with one of the switches on the fritz, (where does that phrase come from?!) the guitar is still worth around $1,500. And at the rate the prices of these guitars are climbing, they may actually overtake their more desirable brothers because of their rarity. I can only hope they keep their word!

These two wound up in the shop with a gem of an instrument. A 1920's H. A. Weymann and Sons Mandolin-Lute with a crack in the top. It's a beautiful instrument, though, and once that crack is repaired, they're likely to have a great family heirloom on their hands.

Hailing from Philadelphia, the Weymann company opened in 1864 and was most widely known for distributing instruments; to a lesser degree, the company was also notable for making well-regarded banjos, mandolins and other instruments. This model of mandolin was made in the classical lute-style, and when repaired it could fetch as much as $700. Hopefully they'll hold on to it. Just look at the alternating, colored wood on the back, while noting the inlaid scratchplate it boasts on its spruce top. Seeing it in person was a great experience, especially since i've not had the chance to handle, well, anything from that era. A fine piece.

I am so unbelievably proud. And a little wistful. What's that in my eye? None of your darn business, that's what! Bwahaaaa!!!

Sniffle. Much like seeing an old flame in the arms of another, so will it be to send off my first love. Even more so when my current belle is in the shop with two cracks and loose bracing!

So, i'm having a rough week- insurance company offered me a plan to help out, then retracted it the next day. I'm really overwhelmed by it, as per my usual money handling strategy. But something grand happened today:

I sold my first acoustic a long time ago- i mean, the one i learned on. I put stickers all over it, took absolutely no care of it, then three years before attending Mission California i got rid of the thing. (after i unsuccessfully tried to sand off the finish) The neck was bowed, uncomfortable, and it was in such disrepair...

Fast forward some 8 years later: I'm a guitar tech at a music store, and i love repairing them. Making musicians happy is one of the greatest joys of my 9-to-5 life. Which is actually more like 11-8. Love it.

A short-spoken man came in with his eager son today, with a battered old guitar. Said he found it in the garbage, missing its nut and bridge pins. No strings, dirty, disgusting, and sun-worn.

I looked at it, and something struck me about the oddly-stripped finish. The spots where stickers prevented fading. The neck felt strangely familiar. I stepped back, and to my utter shock- it was her. My first (Actually, third guitar, but first real, full-size) guitar. I cried out, "This is MY GUITAR!!!"

The guy didn't care. But i did. So it's sitting in my room right now, waiting for a new nut to be shimmed, fitted and cut. And i'm gonna have it in playable condition for this kid. I never fully realized how much the things we leave behind make an impact. I'm in shock, and so happy at the same time. It's a labour of love...

It's funny how things come back around. It's like stumbling upon old photographs you thought you'd lost, where frozen there are everyday faces and foreign places. The sounds, the smells, the split-second eternities all flood back in and you relive them, each and every one in a breath.

Feeling the neck in my hands today, while gazing upon the battered body of my old friend, i thought of where i'd been, where i'm going and all that rubbish. And though she's worn and in such bad condition, i'm glad she's back in my life for a spell. I'm gonna love the next few days of repair work. I'm just so glad. Can't wait to pass this on...

We like to have fun at Menchey Music. It's a fact. Don't believe me? Well, now you've got proof- that is, if the story about this kid with condoms in his guitar case didn't convince you.

I arrived at work in an already chipper mood, when i stumbled upon the largest guitar case i've ever seen with a green repair tag stuck in it. I peered inside the case, rife with antici..... pation, and lo and behold i gazed upon the shredtastitude that is the Dean Razorback Explosion.

This guitar was designed by the late 'Dimebag' Darrell Abbott of Pantera and Damageplan fame. He was one of the most influential metal guitarists of his time, and possibly the second most enduring legacy he's left is embodied in his instruments. This particular body shape was being refined just before he was shot onstage at Alrosa Villa in Columbus, Ohio on December 8th, 2004.

It's a sharp axe, and i mean sharp. There were a few times that i jabbed myself in the cut resulting in quick bursts of pain and anxiety. After some careful maneuvering (it's literally the biggest guitar i've ever worked on, or played for that matter. The thing is a full 48" long. That's end to end length, mind you- from one crazily pointy end of the "V" to the spread-eagle headstock. It's formidable, to say the least. I know it looks a little kooky to the traditionalist in all of us, but the thing nearly demands some respect. With a tone that's cutting and full of that resonant thud that metallers go crazy for, thanks to the set neck and all of that extra wood. And the flame job decal... just... yeesh.

The repair tag called for a complete set-up, including a re-string and adjusting the truss rod. But the fun lay somewhere closer to the bridge: the bridge. I'm not a fan of Floyd-Rose locking tremolo systems, and this was my first attempt to fool around with one. After half an hour of online research, i decided i was ready.

I was wrong.

Apparantly, you're supposed to re-string these one at a time, which i didn't do. I cut them all at once, causing the bridge to spring back into the body cavity, locking into place. Lots of tension on those springs, there. I had to have Josh slide a 9V battery to brace it while i pulled back on the bridge with all my might. Whew. Fun, fun. Also, you need a few different allen wrenches to un-lock the strings from the bridge, making string changing more fun that usual. I spent close to 3 hours figuring this beast out, turning hex keys, tuning, realizing that tuning one string de-tunes all the others, stretching, re-tuning, re-re-tuning, re-re-re-tuning and adding a spring to make the trem flush with the body.

Yeah, that took a long time. And my standard rate for repairs is around $15 an hour, not including parts. I only charged the kid for the strings and the initial set-up, because it was more of a learning experience for me. It's about time i know what the deal is with those things. We bumped him up from .009 gauge strings to .010's, which doesn't sound like a big deal- but it is. Changes the whole feel, and the strings are actually a bit harder to play for some folks. He was a big skeptical when we had first talked it out, but when he came to pick it up, he was ecstatic. I'd worked long and hard to make sure that guitar played as well as it could, and it played 'like buddah'. He was beaming. (did i mention the kid was, like, 15 or 16?)

That's really why i do this. Yes, i love guitars. I love working on them, playing them, making music with them. The real joy in this for me comes from making people happy. Helping someone find their 'perfect guitar', setting it up for their needs. It's the satisfaction that comes from serving others and being able to make a guitar feel just right. That kid was glad, and so was i.

But he doesn't know how much fun i had posing with that thing!

A woman named Joyce came in on Monday last with a very dirty, very old no-name guitar. Since i'm basically the in-house repair man, the guitar was called to my attention, and she expressed that the guitar was of great importance to her. As best i can recall, the guitar was owned by her father, with her mother also owning one of similar brand. He played it for her when she was just a child, but since his passing it's been kept in the attic, collecting dust until now. She needed it cleaned, re-strung, and assessed for worth/damage.

When it comes to guitars, i love a good mystery. She was nice enough that i was compelled to research this instrument's origins on the interwebs. After a deep clean, a polishing, a bit of lemon oil and a string change, I poured over site after site of vintage instruments. Because it was her father's guitar, i figured it had to be older than 50's- especially because the neck has no truss rod. (essentially, an adjustable steel rod that runs the length of the neck to reinforce as well as counter any bow in the neck)

When she came to pick it up today, I was all too excited to give her a bit of history with her newly cleaned and warm-sounding guitar. 1940 Harmony H1001. One of the first models Harmony produced- and it's numbered 124. Pretty nice. It's not worth a great deal, but I think its intrinsic sentimental value is much more valuable to her. So, we took some photos, had some laughs, and I played a last chord or two on a guitar that's more than 40 years my senior. And for the record, it sounded surprisingly good. Woody and that perfect combination of boxy and springy. *Sniff*