Life's Lessons Through A Norma Guitar

 Today's posting is personal to me. It started with a thought yesterday, and it ended with confession of an attitude that I had years and years ago. We all like to see ourselves in a way that might not be true to what others see in us.  There are things we have said in the past.....attitudes that we carried around that, even though we might not have put words to the attitude, those around us knew that something was going on.

The guitar you see at the left is a picture of the very first electric I ever owned. The year was 1967 and I was 15 years old. Back in the day, as a young boy, you came alive when one of your friends spoke those magic words..."Hey, let's start a band." Such efforts among teenagers was commonly referred to as "garage bands" because that was the place such bands were relegated to by parents in an effort to soften the roar of the amps and the tempo challenged pounding of the drums.


My growing up years were no different. Friend of mine called me one day and said that he was starting a band and wanted me to play rhythm guitar. I would not be honest if I said that I didn't have visions of the Beatles running through my brain. It was a band! It was playing music! It was girls screaming and fainting as we played! Well, two out of three isn't bad. I had been taking guitar lessons for about 6 months and had down most of the major chords....still had trouble with that dastardly "F" chord.

At the time, I only had an acoustic guitar, and my 15 year old mind told me that a real band had a need to be electrified. I asked my mom and dad if I could buy an electric. Being that this was probably the first thing I not only showed an interest in (music) but had a smidgen of talent, dad told me that he would look into helping me get an electric guitar. Just hearing the word "electric" in front of the word "guitar" sent shivers down my spine. Strings that would resonate with power, sound, fury and all those other things 15 year old so called musicians dream of.

Here's where everything goes sideways in my 15 year old mind.
My band mates came from families that were a bit better off than my own. My family was not destitute or lacking for any of the basic needs....there just wasn't a lot left over if you know what I mean. Anyway, all the guys in the band played first rate instruments. Fender guitar's and amp's...the drummer played a set of Pearl drums (as best as I can remember). So naturally my mind told me that I needed the best also. Didn't happen.

My dad came home one afternoon shortly after my invitation to join the band with a guitar...not a Fender...Not a Gibson....Not even a Gretch......but a Norma. What? Norma? Who even makes a guitar and then calls it NORMA!  To make matters worse, the guitar was metal-flake orange. It almost glowed in the dark. My mom and dad were not guitar savvy. Dad had done the best he could, and here I sat with a look of disappointment on my face. I was a selfish, unappreciative brat. Never mind that he'd probably spent money he didn't have, so that his son could play in a band. Now, he had to watch as I became a musical martyr wearing my metal-flake orange millstone around my neck for all the world to see. My dad did not deserve the way I treated him, and he certainly didn't deserve to have a son who acted like a horses rear.

Looking at the pictures of my "Norma" guitar made me wish I could go back and undo the way I acted toward a man who loved me and only wanted me to be able to be a part of something that he really didn't understand. Because it was important to me....it became important to him.

I wish I could go back and put my arms around him and say, "Dad...thank you for loving me enough to buy this guitar." I wish I could have had a heart of gratitude toward a man who worked extremely hard to keep food on our table and a roof over our heads. I wish I could apologize to him.

Funny how memories and pictures can reveal your heart. As I sat there staring at these pictures, the only comfort I took away was the simple fact that I've grown a bit since 1967. That my selfishness is long since gone, and that I look to the needs of others over my own.

I wish I still had that guitar. I wish I could strap it up one more time and stand defiantly in the face of every Mel Bay book ever printed,  doing Pete Townsend windmills as I show my mastery over an "F" chord.

I guess the gist of my posting today is for all of us to be careful about our words and our attitudes.
Don't give the best speech you'll ever regret....
And truly take to heart "Do unto others as you would have them do to you."
Thanks dad...for the Norma guitar.
I hope that somehow I made you proud along the way....that the 15 year old boy that you saw on that day grew up and became a man.

I want to close with something that shocked me as I researched my old Norma.
These particular guitars have become somewhat of a collector's item.
The pictures I used in this post today are from a man who runs a vintage guitar shop.
Today that Norma guitar sells for over $800.00
Who knew...

God on you....
mbb