She has never ignored me, judged me, or laughed at me. She has brought me joy, carried me though pain, and said things for me I could never say on my own. Always she is waiting for me; all that is needed from her is my touch.
Christine, for that is the name I gave her, has taken my soul on a journey of destinations I never knew existed. A sense of comfort washes over me when I place her neck in my hand. Sometimes I know where we want to go, and other times I allow her to lead on into the night.
If you've never held one such as Christine you may not understand the power she holds over me. Be it my Christine, a retired Blackie, or even the loved Lucille, the influence these women have over their men is not to be tossed aside as a stage act or gimmick.
A young boy searches for identity, even when he doesn't understand what it is or will do to him. It is required of him to become a man though, and it is not a simple task to check off a list. If he grabs a six string he will find himself in her, and not even know it. He can be loved with a beard going down to his knees, loved in shorts, loved with a large top hat and hair so overgrown you cannot see his face and only glimpse the lit end of his cigarette. He can be rhythmic, he can be melodic. He can be perfection, he can be improvisation. He can be himself, from moment to moment; every second brings a new version of ourselves. At the same time, he can relive himself of past.
As he becomes tangled in six strings he will hear others who have come before him, and those with him now. Their secrete message will become clear to him, he will understand the lives they have led. He will add his own threads to the fabric, and blend them with those giants.
A twelve bar blues, a country ballad, or a rock anthem will all be in his grasp the moment he needs them. She will be there to catch him, and save him from himself every time. She will give him identity, even if he is the only one who ever sees it.
I look now at Christine, leaning upon a chain. Her slender black body shines, and her smooth white face curves as if to imply a seductive smile. Truth be told, we've been together so long she doesn't need seduction to lure me over; the mere thought of her draws me. I go over now, and begin to warm up the amp; I have a feeling we may get loud tonight. As I wait for the amp to ready, I open a new set of strings. She deserves them, after all.
Posted By Mike On Thursday, March 17, 2005
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