Wednesday, December 06, 2006


No More Taylor Girls

You may think that this is a gorgeous guitar. Because it is. I listed it on eBay today and then cried. When we bought them we made poor Mike of West Music play "Wisteria" 5 times on each and every guitar in the store, to see which one sounded the most resonant. This was rather tedious because you have to alternatively tune the guitar to play it. He did.

Then we picked two guitars. Then we hugged. Then we ran away to Seattle together and lived happily ever after.

Then we got a thank you note to the Taylor girls. I've considered naming CHILDREN "Taylor" or even "Martin" because of my neo-folk tendencies and how happy my Taylors have made me. Or even "Baby Taylor" after the smallest model. Which Alice is getting as soon as I can stand to watch her banging the shit out of such an exquisite work of art. I WAIT for the Taylor newspaper that comes in my mailbox at regular intervals. It's even better than the Subaru newsletter. And that's saying something, since one month the Subaru magazine was all about a guy who built a log cabin by hauling wood out the back of his glass-free 1979 Legacy. I think the whole thing ended with chanting and a contribution to the Sierra Club.

In all fairness, this one was Mel's to sell, and she's been wanting to do it for years. But so help me, if we are living in a cardboard box, no one's prying my Taylor from my cold, dead, hands.

WHY are you selling it? Are you selling it to feed Alice? Because, really, WE WILL FEED ALICE! Even organic! Seriously, don't sell your cherished artifacts just to buy tofu and lentil soup. I forbid you.
Were we supposed to feed Alice? EVERY day?
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