"First Blooms, First Loves" (March 2011)

Musings on the memories that accompany the first blossoms emerging from the warming spring soil.

Northern Virginia is a peculiar place. Part southern, part northern in personality and weather, but truly of neither. We get winter, and then I get surprised by flowers blooming in the snow in late February, of all things. Sometimes I fail notice the changing angle of the sun and slowly lengthening daylight until some tiny audacious blossom at my feet reminds me that indeed winter is already lining up in the rearview mirror.

And nothing like the onset of spring to stir the notions of romance (and now that I've walked the road of life a few decades, nostalgia!). The first warm southern breezes and daffodil blossoms seem to touch places in the heart and memory. It is astonishing sometimes how a smell or a sound can evoke such a vivid memory or flashback, particularly when it comes to young loves.

It was the spring when I was about to turn 15 that I first met her. A 1976 Fender Stratocaster electric guitar, in mint condition. I bought the guitar from an older kid who worked at a music store, and the Strat was shiny and the curves had me absolutely hypnotized. My Dad loaned me a few bucks and I weeded strawberry fields down the road for several hot early summer weeks at minimum wage to pay him back. Every time I opened that case I knew what it felt like to look at something with love in the eyes. We were inseparable that summer.

My dad has said that in our family we form long lasting bonds with people, and I've found that he's right about this and a few other things. That guitar made me decent money on the weekends in high school, and along with two classmates and longtime musician friends it helped put me through college and graduate school. I retired it when I got my Martin in 1992 and started focusing pretty exclusively on the acoustic music that has become my career and life.

Three springs ago an old love got back into my bones. I never did get rock and roll out of my blood, but I was unprepared for the fervency of the affection suddenly stirring within. It was during the rehearsals for the CD release concerts when Something Worth Standing For came out. Out came my trusty old love for those rehearsals, scratched and worn, but still sounding delicious and looking pretty fine to my now older eyes too. It was the first time I played in a band with drums and rock and roll energy in nearly two decades, and I was like that 15-year old in love all over again.

By now you may have realized that I am describing my band Beyond Borders with my three cherished and dear friends, Lisa Taylor, Les and Stephanie Thompson. and perhaps now too you realize you may have seen pictures of me with my first love in my hands on stage during one of our shows. The little kid grin on my face, or eyes closed lost someplace in a moment of deep feeling.

A long relationship indeed - one my dad made possible. It remains the only electric guitar I've ever owned. We're tight. I wore out the original neck, rusted out the original bridge, replaced more strings than I care to think about.

All relationships need maintenance - sometimes just changing the oil, other times more substantive work is required. Once in awhile you might get lucky, and the reward is lifelong. I just went and opened up the case for a look, and to remember that shiny new love. We've known each other so long now, and been through a lot together. It is different, but I remember well that spark this morning.

Yeah, and I still have the faded handwritten receipt that kid gave me, safe in a box with other treasures like my baseball glove.