THE GUITAR IS BACK

Here you have the timeline. No one took Bin Laden to the ground, but some true blue heroism went down all the same.

After Kara Johnson and Patrick Winningham came up with an action plan, they flyer’d every SRO on Market Street down through the 6th St. corridor and up into the ‘Loin.

This morning I got a cryptic text message from a guy who said we had a deal. I called Patrick, who took it from there. With Tom Heyman in tow (wearing a belt buckle the size of a turkey platter), he headed out for the hand-off, pockets stuffed with cash. They negotiated a meet-up at the Starbucks on 8th and Market - neutral territory. “Mike” showed up with a crumpled flyer instead of a corsage. After a few pleasantries were exchanged, another guy wheeled around the corner on roller blades - with both instruments strapped to his back! Where’s the film crew when we need ‘em? Patrick and Tom docked these two fine citizens two C-notes (or was it three?) for spray painting the bass lime green (fair is fair), and drove off with the guitars.

Hey, if “Mike” and the Roller Blade Man are high as fuck right now, God bless ‘em anyway, they did the right thing.

Again, big thanks to everyone for helping this old mouth breather get his guitar back. I’ve been beating myself up for leaving the guitar and Kevin’s bass in the van. I was tired and got sloppy. I was sick about it. This time I got a break, thanks to the love and support of so many people.

It’s crazy to think that Kara, my old high-school sweetheart and my oldest friend Patrick (and best man at our wedding) came to the rescue (along with all the rest of you). The two people in my life who’ve been there for me longer than that wandering guitar. Okay, enough typing from me. I’ve got to go sound check. We’re in Seattle tonight at the Sunset Tavern. Come on down. Who knows what trouble we’ll get into. I’m feeling good!

Love and kisses and broken fingers,

Stay gold Pony Boy,

Chuck