Baby, Please Come Home....

Well, it has never happened to me before, but I'm taking it as a sign and running with it.

Can't argue with fate and everything, now can I?

What am I burbling about?

Well, I've been beating myself up over selling The Old Burny One for the last week or so, and chasing Les Pauls all over Ebay and around local shops without one feeling 'right' to me. And generally feeling pretty stoopid for letting it go in the first place.

It is my perfect Les Paul, and you really shouldn't let perfection go so easy, after all.

Then I heard from the chap who bought it, and found myself on one level gutted that he didn't like it - it wasn't what he expected, being the bottom line - and that he would like to return it.

So on one side I'm battered and bruised because, well, I want everybody to love my guitars.

But on the other I'm elated because it is coming home to me.

A while back you might remember I flogged my battered Gordo and that came back due to a few cracks appearing on it's way, and it won't be going anywhere again.

And so I feel the same way about The Old Burny One, it is meant to be mine after all, and so I plan to keep it.

All of which means that if I ever get the Golden Shower One back from the tech, I've got a dilemma, but what the hell I'll think of something.

Just hope it gets home in one piece...

I think I am a cuppa half full kinda chap after all...