It’s a guitar with a natural finish, which since it’s light colored wood is called blonde. Good grief, people. What did you think I was talking about? Some people and their gutter minds, I tell you.

Anyway, this past weekend I came into possession of a brand new old guitar. It’s a model I owned one of in my tenderheaded teen years. Traded it for a different brand because that was the one my guitar hero (this was back when being one meant playing the actual instrument, not the video game) wielded. One of the dumber moves I’ve made in the past few decades. Now that I can actually play a little bit, I’ve rectified the error.

As noted, the guitar is used. They don’t make ‘em like this one anyone. Which is not a grumpy Gus grouse about how things were better in the good old days. They really don’t make them like this anymore. The guitar line itself still flies high, but this particular model has been discontinued since the mid ’80s. There was a brief reissue a few years ago, so I hear, but haven’t seen a trace of them anywhere. So off to the used market it is. Translation: eBeg… er, eBay.

Buying most anything on eBay can be a stab in the dark. But a guitar? You are running on serious faith. Even the best photographed one isn’t going to show everything. You won’t be able to examine it in detail. You can’t pick it up and play it to see how it feels. You don’t know how it sounds. Other than that you’re perfectly dialed in.

Nevertheless, into the bidding maelstrom I plunged. To be honest, I was looking more for an instant purchase than anything else. Bidding on eBay can be rather nerve-wracking when it’s something you seriously want. You never know when someone is going to dive-bomb at the last second — literally the last second — with some crazy bid designed to make sure it tops anything you dare offer. Not my idea of fun. Therefore, time to seek the Buy It Now tag. Yet even this approach has a downside. Namely, those attempting to exploit the disease known as gottahaveititis by setting a ridiculously high purchase price in addition to listing it as an auction item. If they get it, all the better for them. If not, it’ll still sell at whatever price tumbles out when the bidding concludes. Best to seek out set price non-auction items.

And so the search began. And continued. It quickly became apparent this would not be an easy task. While the chances of finding what I was looking for in mint condition were less than none unless I wanted to lay out far greater amounts of income than are at my disposal, trying to find one that didn’t look like it had been used to split logs after subbing as the sole baseball bat for both teams in a slugfest was high on the agenda. This proved to be something of a challenge.

I watched and waffled. There would be the occasional one looking like a possibility, but on further review became clear to not be something worth pursuing: inadequate photographic evidence of condition, shaky descriptions (“this beauty was formerly owned by a little old lady who only played it in a worship band on Sundays!”), price tags apparently derived from a Magic 8 Ball reading in lieu of anything vaguely resembling market value. Given that I am a firm believer in the philosophy of thoroughly proofing your aim before pulling the trigger when there is but one available bullet, tempting though some were I wasn’t seeing the one saying I’ll follow you home and please keep me.

And then I spotted her.

It, really. I’m not into the whole guitar male/female symbolism thing. But since the invariable first words whenever the guitar is mentioned to a member of the fairer sex is “you men and your blondes,” might as well be a her. But I digress. Anyway, at first few glances it didn’t register. It was an unusual color for this model, and I wasn’t quite sure whether I cared for the look. However, as the days wore on and I kept running across it, something about it called me.

Perhaps it was the generally unwanted nature of the instrument. Different models of this line sell for the tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars, but this one… the fact it hasn’t been made in any kind of quantity since the mid ’80s says it all as far as popularity. And there was the finish. Gentlemen prefer blondes, so the thinking goes; but given how few of these were made in the color and the even scarcer demand, not in this case. If Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree had been made into a guitar, this was it.

Perfect!

So I made the purchase. Last Saturday she finished making her way across the country to my door.

She’s a bit more beat up than the photos indicated, but nothing too bad for a thirty-five year old guitar: a few dings and dents here, some checking in the finish there. The listing proudly stated she had been professionally set up to play, which could be true as she hasn’t needed any kind of adjustments. However, it rapidly became apparent when I started playing her that her previous owner or owners were quite averse to the nicety known as proper handwashing. Unbelievable amount of gunk surrounding each fret. I went through four cleaning cloths where normally one would do and they were still coming out black. I’ve cleaned off everything around the frets, but one day I know I’ll have to take her to a skilled luthier for the purpose of removing, cleaning around and replacing the fretboard inlays.

Still, she’s mine. Plays beautifully; has the sweet sound I remember from the first time I owned one, a sound I’ve never found in any other guitar. Like her owner, she’s a bit of a ragtag soldier showing her years and some battle scars. But she’s still hanging in there. And, while I refuse to assign any excessive value to a material item, when I’m playing her I get the sense that she’s where she ought to be and hopefully will be for a long, long time.

That’s my new — new to me, anyway — hot ‘n dirty blonde girlfriend.

I’m quite thankful she’s mine.