When I was little my Dad had an acoustic guitar in a musty smelling case that he stashed in the back of his closet.

Sometimes he would pull it out and play songs by Johnny Cash or the Kingston Trio.

Stashed next to the case in his closet was his ‘songbook’. He would sing and play stuff from that book.

My Dad  had the lyrics and chord changes from his favorite songs written down in his spiral bound notebook- I found out later that my Mom had written the lyrics down and that he had gone back an written in the chords.

I can tell you this- my  Mom sort of liked Johnny Cash but she hated the Kingston Trio and  she couldn’t stand almost all of the other folk bands whose lyrics and chords were in my Dad’s notebook.

She was an Elvis fan, she loved Little Richard. She also liked the Rolling Stones. She also told me she liked Tina Turner, but she didn’t like seeing her on tv or in magazines because it was obvious her husband was beating her and she felt sorry for her. She also thought it was disgraceful that nobody said anything about it.

The only thing musical thing my parents had in  common   was that they both hated the Beatles- LOL. I hate them too. I always felt like as a musician I was being forced to kiss the ring and declare the Beatles were the Gods of Rock and Roll.

I hated that.

Now. Back to my Dad’s guitar.

Photographer Unknown: My Dad’s Guitar was just like this one.

I was under strict orders to not touch my Dad’s guitar.

Well of course I touched it. I touched it a lot and I got caught too.

At first I would hide in the closet and play with the guitar. I used to make up songs, or I sang songs I knew and would sort of strum along. From  the closet I graduated to jumping up on my parent’s bed where I would bounce around and sing and play.

With all the noise I was making, of course I got caught.

Once my Mom walked into one of my ‘concerts’ and all she said was ” Well, Jesus Christ anyway ”

Finally one day Grandma Ginger  heard  me in the Hallway singing my little heart out to most of the Seattle area ( they said )  when my Dad asked me what the Hell I was doing with HIS GUITAR , my Grandma played the Mom card on my Dad in a very big way.

She said-

” She’s getting your money’s worth for that thing. I told you not to buy it, but did you listen to me? Oh no. Of course you didn’t. You just bought it anyway and now your five year old daughter is torturing the entire house and most of the city with her singing and playing,  is that what you intended your money to go towards? Was it a plot to have your child drive us all insane with…  Anita…what is that song you’re trying to play? ”

” Tutii Fruitti ” I said.

” Well. Well. ” she conceded ” That IS a good song. ”

My Dad had enough.

” Put my guitar away. ” My Dad roared into my face. ” Put it away NOW.”

” Your guitar. ” my Grandma chuckled.

I did put my Dad’s guitar away. Straight away. In double time.  But this time I put it in the closet in my room and that was where it stayed from then on. I played that poor old warped hard to tune guitar well into my 20’s because, why not? I liked it. In fact it’s the only acoustic guitar I ever really played.

The thing is, I went on to play rock and roll and I’ve had a few electric guitars come and go in and out of my life.

I miss the old Harmony though. She was irreplaceable.

My Guitars! A.M. Moscoso