Age 49, Buying My First Electric Guitar
after Gerald Stern’s “Grapefruit”
I am pulling into the short wide driveway,
There’s his red truck with ladders affixed,
There is the pole barn he said to look for, a sign
On the door reading Come on Inside in cursive,
And there he is, the seller, a good ol’ boy
With jagged teeth and crooked glasses, balding,
Portly, like me, walking inside and gesturing
Toward the instrument on a stand, a butterscotch
Blonde guitar, strap hanging, pick guard replaced
With neatly glued-on dark yellow leather, there you go
He says, and I’m picking it up, I’m slipping the strap
Over my left shoulder, I’m making simple chords,
Strumming, not wanting him to see what a novice
I am, he sees it anyway, says this here is for volume,
This for tone, see it’s cleaner if you crank it thataway,
This switch for this pickup or that pickup, you never
Really keep it in the middle, this one here for lead,
Mostly, that one for rhythm, I strum a little more,
I have already fallen in love, you can have the strap,
He says, and I’ve got a soft case for it over here,
I lift it back over my head, hand the guitar over,
He’s hefting it into the case, I have already said yes,
I am already holding out the money from my wallet,
A $100 two $20s and two $5s, bargain of the century,
Blessed are its strings and pickups, blessed are the neck
And headstock and tuners, blessed are the good ol’ boys
Who sell such things to middle-aged dreamers, shuffling
Out the door I’m muttering into my Adam’s Apple,
Dear God, let this be something significant, turn this
Into something more than I have any right to hope for
Steve Henn wrote American Male, Guilty Prayer, Indiana Noble Sad Man of the Year, And God Said: let there be evolution!, and Unacknowledged Legislations. He teaches high school in northern Indiana. More at therealstevehenn.com.
