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Come with me, back to the year 1973. I was fifteen years old, and my older sister and brother had just spent the past decade listening to the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel on vinyl record LP’s. I wore bell-bottom pants, and parted my long, straight hair in the middle. I liked to sing, so all this 1970’s teen needed was a guitar to accompany herself. Paul Simon’s guitar playing spoke to me, and as for George Harrison?….Something in the way he played moved me…
So, guess what I wanted for Christmas? It just so happened that my band teacher, (I played percussion, and took band in order to avoid taking Algebra 2) was about to order some classical guitars from the same company who made our band instruments, and was wondering who in the class wanted one. I was the first to raise my hand. All my dad needed was $110 and the faith that his algebra avoiding daughter would actually play the guitar.
I couldn’t pay for it. The only job I’d had up to that point other than babysitting (for 50 cents an hour) was at the Rancho Park Laundromat that my dad built. I was an attendant, and he paid me $1.40 per hour to clean out the washing machines, scrub floors, collect dryer lint, etc. and I had to wear that red bolero and sash at the grand opening. So, I deserved this guitar.
I was delighted to find it under the tree on Christmas morning. I named her “Peaches” because when I strummed the six nylon strings, she sounded as sweet as a ripened peach, my favorite fruit. The brand name, “Conn” was printed on the headstock, and her middle name became, “Connie”. Giving it the name, “Connor” didn’t occur to me until now, 45 years later.
If you’ve listened to this episode: What are some theories that you’ve had? Have any proved true? Which ones are you still… waiting… on?