Pages

Saturday 21 February 2009

Sentimental value

When I bought my new guitar before Christmas, I also took my old guitar to the music shop to see if he knew anyone who could fix it. It had sounded ‘off’ for quite a while. It rattled when I played certain notes and one string just wouldn’t tune properly. It always seemed to be a semi-tone out and it annoyed me. Besides that the bridge was coming unstuck. Not bad for a thirty-year-old guitar, but it had been much better and I hoped it still could. The man in the music shop said that yes, he knew someone in the city, but that it might take some time. He’d let me know when he knew how much it would cost.

He finally got back to me today. The cost of repairing it is going to be more than the guitar cost me when I bought it! Despite the promise to let me know before the work started, the man in the city has already done most of the repairs, (which involved a total rebuild by the sound of it) so I’m already up for a fair bit, but it also needs a new nut and strings, so that's extra.

So why bother? It’s old and I already have a new one. It’s just a bit of wood with strings on, isn’t it? It’s not like I’m a guitar maestro. I can’t help thinking back though, to the day I got it. I had been desperately trying to learn to play on the three-quarter plywood guitar that Mum had scrimped to buy for my 12th birthday, but I was at University now and had a friend with a beautiful Takeharu Classical/Accoustic guitar. He knew I loved it and I’ve never been sure if he was honest in telling me that he had to sell it to pay his Residential College fees, or whether he was just giving me the chance to buy a guitar, but he sold it to me for a pretty low price for the guitar it was.

That guitar got me through some stressful pre-exam nights, soothed away the pains of unrequited love and made me new friends. It was a friend. When I went teaching, it sat in the corner of the classroom, the promise of a song - a treat for work done well. The children knew they weren’t to touch it and woe betide anyone who knocked it over. But the pride on the face of a child asked to carry it to me was priceless. It has played hymns in church and accompanied school choirs. So what price do you put on sentimental value?

I think the man in the music shop thought all his Christmases had come at once when I walked in.

5 comments:

Brenda said...

I think some salespeople can just tell when something has sentimental value...because that is when they take you for everything ya got...grin...

I have an old jewelry box that was given to me in the third grade (it was from a little boy who wanted to be my special Valentine...)

Looking back, I have to admit that is was probably his sister's...grin

I hold onto this little jewelry box even though the little ballerina doesn't spin around anymore...Even if they would probably look at me like I was nuts...if I had a little extra money in my pocket, I would probably get it fixed...it helps bring back my youth...grin...

C.R. Evers said...

Well. . . between sentimental value and how antiques are worth more the better cared for they are . . . it may be worth the $$$$ some day.

If I had the $$$ I'd probably do it, becuase I'm such a sentimental fool and I would justify it for it's antique value. ;0)

Rena Jones said...

Sentimental stuff is big to me. I don't have a lot of things left from my childhood, so I'm always looking around ebay for things to take me back.

I hope they can fix your guitar without it costing you too much more.

Goldie Jell said...

No Kate, I don't think you can put a price on sentimental value. You'll be so glad when it's fixed you'll wonder why you ever questioned that it should be any other way.

Kate said...

Thank you all, ladies! You've made me feel much better. I'm not wasting money on a clapped out bit of wood with a few strings - I'm restoring a future antique and keeping a link with my youth. A much more positive way to look at it! :)