Somebody’s got a funky old Fender Musicmaster, well loved and well played, and, late one night maybe everything starts to get to them, the war, their relationship, the way people don’t use their turn signals while talking on their cell phones without a headset…and they snap. They grab a screwdriver and start to repeatedly slam the business end into the red paint on the back of the blameless guitar, again and again. And after they’re done, they play tic-tac-toe. They win.
In the right hands a guitar can express so many facets of a person’s character.