One of the only items that I have of my biological grandfather’s is his old dobro guitar that I brought from the States with me in 1991. It’s a beast to play, but it has it’s own unique tone and the neck is still worn from where he held his hand when playing it.
Considering that he died over half a century ago and that I look very much like him, it feels odd to hold and play it. But I bet he couldn’t see it being used to play heavy metal either :)
This is the early morning sunlight in August that’s reflecting from the guitar, winter sunlight doesn’t stream through our guest/guitarroom window.
P.S. Yes, I missed a day and this has been back-dated. What can I say, I got carried away trying to get the hang of the riff for Crazy Train yesterday.