The only Baby I will ever care for.
This is Taylor. It’s my guitar. We’ve been through a lot together. I received this Big Baby from my parents as a Christmas gift when I was a senior in high school. This was back in 2004, when my world revolved around punk rock and power chords. I asked specifically for this model because I had played one at my friend’s house and really enjoyed the sound of it. Taylors have a very bright and cheery tone to them–so hardcore and alternative, right? Heh. But, at any rate, my parents surprised me with this bamf* guitar and though I dabbled with it then, I never really got into the whole “learn the guitar” phase.
Until April of 2007, that is. I heard Brandi Carlile’s “The Story,” and immediately had to figure out how to play THAT SONG. It consists of four chords…one barre chord, which actually does take a little strength and skill. But, I learned it. I mastered it. And ever since that fateful day I’ve been banging on the guitar non-stop. Strangely enough, I’ve actually become pretty damn good at it. First hobby I’ve stuck with other than basketball in my entire life.
So, here she is in all of her five year old glory. I don’t treat her that well. She’s been left in the car over a hot summery weekend, dropped on the tile floor, thrown into a fence when I began to associate guitars with a certain girl… and all in all just beaten and bruised routinely. She is a battered woman. But, she knows that I love her. And despite that one time where I thought about pawning her off to pay for food to eat–I have never and will never consider getting rid of her. She was my first. And thus the most special.
*bamf= bad ass mutha fuckin