Monday, June 16, 2014

It's Kind of a Crazy Story...

I grew up in a house with music. We all did some sort of music – from piano, clarinet, voice, and violin lessons, to guitar and banjo. We had bluegrass jams, violin and voice recitals and everything in-between. At some point, I decided I wanted to learn to play the guitar so my dad showed me the basics and I developed into a passable, if elementary, guitar player.

My grandfather, who was very supportive of my music, gave me one of his guitars, and that was what I played – I took it to camp, I played it in my bedroom for hours at night, and eventually I took it to Florida State University with me. At some point, the guitar and I got separated. I wish like crazy that I could remember how, but alas, I have absolutely no idea.

Jump forward 30 or so years. 

A few months ago I got a phone call from my father asking me if I had ever had possession of Granddaddy’s Framus guitar. It took a minute of pondering for me to remember that that was the one I had used in my earlier life. I told Dad that I remembered introducing myself as “Maryann Daves and her Framus Guitar” when I’d perform in the talent shows at Camp Mikell (my staples were “Mr. Bojangles” and several John Denver songs if you have a gig you’d like me to play). I asked him why he wanted to know and here’s the crazy story.

In early November, my brother Michael, who is a professional musician based in Brooklyn, got an email from a fan, telling him that he had this Framus guitar that he purchased from a pawn shop in Tallahassee around 1990. On the back was the name “Daves,” and inside, on the label, was the name “M. Daves.” This gentleman wanted to know if there was any way it might possibly have belonged to Michael, or someone else in his family. Michael reached out to Dad, who reached out to me and sent me the pictures. Dammed if it wasn’t my old guitar! It makes sense that it was in Tallahassee, but as God is my witness, I’ve never stepped foot in a pawn shop in all of my 29 (well, 51) years. I would love to know where it was between 1985ish, when I graduated from FSU, and 1990 when the guitar angel found it.

Anyway, it was a nice story, and while, to be honest, I hadn’t thought much about that guitar in the years following college, it was nice to know now that it was still being played. And that was that.

Yesterday was my birthday, and Michael sent me an email with a picture of my birthday present.

He’s sending it down with my parents when they go up to see him and his family in August.

It’s a crazy story. One that still has me shaking my head. But I’ll tell you that this is the best birthday present I’ve ever received, hands down! Thanks Michael!

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