A Story about Me, the Gibson 175 and 3:30 a.m. shawarmas (Patreon)

I have only played a 175 one time. It was 3:30 am in Buenos Aires, a little drunk my guitar playing buddy and I went to go eat shawarmas around the corner, we had a jam, than a big asado with a bunch friends, drank fernet went to the disco, came back and had another jam, now we needed just a little more food in the belly before bed to soak up the fernet. More people came to the BBQ than anticipated so there wasn't a lot of food so I was hungry regardless. After that I was going home so I had my guitar. When we got there I heard some ask "Voc tocás?" Do you play? I told him yeah for sure, I had only been playing for year and a half that that point and my friend and I spent most of our time playing crappy covers with 2 minute solos between every verse and chorus. I don't know if your learning process was the same but when we discovered the pentatonic scale we took all kinds of solos. Our jam sessions would include 12 minute versions of Wagon Wheel and were nothing to write home about, but a great time both for learning and in life. Mid 20s, in Buenos Aires, broke as can be, but mastering a new langauge, meeting friends, staying out all night, learning to jam, it was a poor time to be alive but a great time to be alive. 

So the guy at the shawarma place asks me to play a song, I told him I'll play Hey Joe and I did and he just smashed the melody out by ear. It was amazing, any song I was saying he was could just play the melody by ear, to this day one of the most talented musicians I have ever played with. The guy was obese, greasy, in his mid 40s really but looked closer to 60 than 40, and just a tremendous guitar player. In his hands he had a Gibson 175, it was a really old guitar that I am guessing was made in Kalamazoo, which is were I grew up. So I told him about the factory and how it is hertiage now, he thought it was cool and was impressed with my Spanish, which was amazing because Spanish down there is really tricky. It felt good to be making progress on that level to be able to hang out, jam, and talk music with a head full of fernet at by now was well passed 4 am. 

I told him I was going home and he told me to wait, he called up a friend who came with her partner, one of played bandoneon. They came and played the most mind bending tangos that you could imagine. Goosebumps for every song. Mind you all this is going on in a shawarma store approaching 5 am now. Normally the store would be closed at 4 but because we were playing people just kept coming. After all these life changing tangos the guy passed me his 175 and let me play rhythm on a couple of tunes. I said some that I know, some standards in English, and the girls knew them and played bandoneon and sang with me. By now it was 6 am and the shawarma people had stayed 2 hours later than normal and were ready to go home, we were too. We walked out and said goodbye, it was on the corner of scalabrini ortiz y cordoba, if not that exact corner one or two blocks from there because that is where my friends apartment was. Since that moment I have lusted over a 175. Not just for the sound, but because of that magical moment and the magic that those instruments have inside of them.