Hi, I’m Your Guitar In The Corner And I’ve Transitioned From An Instrument To Home Decor
Hey, long time no see! It’s me, Martin. Well, that’s the name imprinted on my headstock. In case you forgot, my name is Rose. You gave me that name because all famous guitarists name their guitars and you decided to name me after an ex-girlfriend you dated for two months during undergrad.
You purchased me intending to come out of quarantine with a new hobby. You marveled at my once-glossy nitrocellulose lacquer finish that reflected off the sunlight so beautifully. Now I’m decorated with dust as a result of your constant neglect and spend my days looking at you while being adjacent to that wilting houseplant you bought on a whim from Home Depot.
You know, I thought I was special. I remember all those lies you told yourself. “I’m going to practice 30 minutes every day!” Yeah right. I once thought I was your prized possession. Now I realized I’m no different than the DJ system, DSLR camera, and half-finished origami projects scattered across the house. Just physical reminders that you lack commitment. You see something shiny at a store and imagine the possibilities that can come from it, but once you get home and realize it takes practice to become good at something, you just go on to the next new hobby hoping that the journey will be less difficult.
It’s the same story every time. Someone gets a glimpse of me while you’re on your Zoom meeting and immediately asks “You play?” And as always, you say “I shred every now and then.” You fucking liar. I’m no different than the picture of you and Barack Obama hanging on your wall. I’m just an interesting conversation piece for someone who barely has a personality!
Before meeting you, I had aspirations of being taken on a national tour (even just being played at a local bar)! Hell, at this point, I’m lucky enough to be in the background of your TikTok videos! FYI, it’s a platform for teenagers and young adults to make funny videos and do dance challenges. No one wants to see a 30-year-old man do a cooking tutorial on how to cook a frozen pizza!
I wish I would have saved these strings for someone who could at least play the intro to “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” You should have just left me hanging up on the wall at Guitar Center. New guitars would talk about how being brought home is the greatest thing to happen to an instrument. Who would have thought you bringing me home would be the worst day of my life?
From time to time, I sit in the corner and watch you enjoy your records, whether it be Jimi Hendrix, The Eagles, or The Beatles. You become the rockstar of your world, imagining yourself performing for a sold-out crowd.
Suddenly the guitar solo begins and you go wild.
I wish you would pick me up and at least attempt to try it yourself.
I don’t even care if you fumble my strings. I want to be the mighty ax to your rock kingdom.
Just play me as I gently weep.
