Unexpected setbacks are a wonderful part of life. When I recently moved to Houston I (as all movers do) simply had to leave some things behind. One of them was a special guitar I purchased (for a song) a number of years ago at a San Francisco pawn shop. Because of climate change it now has a decent-sized crack in the spruce top, right behind the bridge. I decided I would try to fix it on my own (always a risk!). The glue held, and though scarred, it still sounds great, maybe better than before. I put something silly on the guitar just to remind me of the damage and low-ball repair job: some plastic adhesive lettering, spelling out the word “Custom” along the crack. This word reminds me of the fragility of the material world and my own defects, yet also points to the hope of fixing faults and cracks along the way. St. Josemaria liked very much the idea of a valuable piece of pottery getting broken, but once repaired, taking on a new attractive character. This thought especially led me to this modification.
I also affixed the “Custom” label in honor of late Texan blues great Stevie Ray Vaughan. His beat-up 1963 Fender Stratocaster (dubbed “Number 1”) was damaged when SRV decided to “repair” it. He covered the damaged part with a cheap, shiny “Custom” sticker behind the bridge. That sticker, and the guitar, became an extension of SRV’s persona, and is now legendary, priceless, and immediately recognizable by all blues fans. Here’s a short clip with SRV playing (look for the sticker).
Friends recently let me know that the acoustic “Custom” remains in good care in Pittsburgh, where it belongs and is always up for helping gather people for joyous musical encounters. May it always find the hands and voices it needs. Material things do not always go with us, but maybe that’s a spiritual way we can leave a part of ourselves, wherever He may lead us in this journey called life. God bless!
PS, While it was rumored that SRV’s “Number 1” was buried with him after his tragic helicopter death in 1990, it remains in his loving family. Don’t ask its estimated worth; there’s no room for the digits here!
Let's Repent! 