£32.95

NylonDave

I've bought a guitar from Aldi. It was not reasonable to test it in the shop so I accepted it warts and all before purchase. It is made with little love from inferior materials.

Yet it conforms to a classic design, in fact to a classical design. It's poor quality nylon strings make the imperfections of it's construction pretty tolerable as they are soft and will last a long time.

At work in slow moments I find that I can spend just a little time and comfortably rejoin my journey around the world of music, as I understand it, with complete satisfaction.

None of her short falls inhibit my appreciation of music as it lives in my imagination. Nor do they dampen my thirst for a deeper understanding of the dozen or so centuries of music that I have grown to love.

In fact I find that, with whatever love and hard work I can muster in the short and wistful times I spend with her, I can feel nothing but progress. The retrenchment of past joys and discoveries . Truth to be told the odd new vista opens up to me and with it the delicious anticipation of new joy and emotions and insights.

Indeed the extra care and attention that I must give to my technique to give my dowdy companion some semblance of nobility and grace and to help her respond to the utmost of her ability are not only rewarding in the moment but also give me a little something that I can take home to my true beloved.

Truth to be told I can make my TRUE beloved sing all the more sweetly and respond more easily and fully to my touch with the deftness and ease which these stolen moments give my hands.

I hope my friends that you understand I am sharing this confession in confidence.

D.

Shemi

Gawd bless Aldi. Don't worry, your secret is safe with us. We won't let your significant other know you are "playing away" ☺️☺️

Scoredog

It appears you could have her cheaper before Brexit but now she is worth the extra time needed to caress her.

NylonDave

Scoredog wrote: »

It appears you could have her cheaper before Brexit but now she is worth the extra time needed to caress her.

Ah yes to caress, that's the thing. And at no time does doing so strike me as a sacrifice. As for any monetary cost well I take neither pride in my presumed meanness nor do I dream of a more expensive mistress or mistresses.

Alas I cannot presume to know under which border controls she was trafficked from China nor who in which countries was paid to let her pass virgin to remote shores. I will claim no ill informed expertise of global politics or commerce glancing as I may at such things only through the smoky lens of a propagandising and corrupt media. A media which exists only to make me, and anyone else who surrenders to weakness, smug in my prejudices and grateful for any facile vindication of my ignorance and alleged exceptionality. With a voracious ego so bolstered I might find myself indebted to a pernicious, ingratiating and false gawd. Then what ? Wake one day to notice with horror how easily I had been mastered ? Once so mastered would I then find myself systematically manipulated in the direction of unchecked consumption and moral smugness ? Maybe, and maybe I would be happy there in the belly of the beast, I would not be the first.

Thankfully though my little sweety is not demanding, she needs no expensive decorations or presents. She has a home of her own with no rivals and I think her content.

But I do worry sometimes that she might get lonely. I note that online there are available in a variety of colours toys that I might leave near her. They are made of hard unyielding plastics, some are of impressive girth. Perhaps I could provide her with a selection of these. I am not sure though that they would truly make me more manly in her eyes. I would be loathe to take credit for any dramatic response they might provoke from her. And those factory made prosthetic tools might not be as sensitive or responsive as I feel a loving partner deserves. Also though the sad truth is that with no hands of her own she cannot strum in my absence.

But that may be a blessing, you see I want her to crave my caress alone. I want her there and ready whenever I am around. And I will confess that both when I leave her and when I return I am perfectly happy to find her there, naked, strung up tightly and with not even a strap on.

Also I don't have a time machine to hand.

D.

ChrisMartin

Well thanks for your confession ND. I strangely feel no shame or guilt in revealing I paid only AU$40 (about US$32 or £24.50) for a bright blue Tele' copy from Aldi. They had been on sale at AU$99 but the last few were reduced to clear. Whenever I feel the need for some Roy Buchanan style squeals, or a bit of down 'n' dirty spankin' the plank, I reach for 'bluey' and go for it. I have many others but it gets its share and does show that the price is not always a guarantee of limited ability.

Buco

What!?!
Aldi guitar is no joke? I thought it was all a part of Dave's satire.
Ha, LOL, this is even better now.

NylonDave

Chris Martin wrote: »

Well thanks for your confession ND. I strangely feel no shame or guilt in revealing I paid only AU$40 (about US$32 or £24.50) for a bright blue Tele' copy from Aldi.

Chris you go to far !

I am not a particularly moral man but I could never have another electric around the house. Why I haven't taken my Ibanez Destroyer out for several years now. Imagine her response if I invited some cheap young thing into our lives. It was bad enough when the Flamenca arrived....

Chocolates lie still uneaten at her side. It's such a long long time for one once so loved to remain unplugged. Surely now craving with all her being the caress of my hands, or any others.

In truth I now fear to crack open her black hardwood case. I fear the the waves of guilt. Sometimes in dreams I do go to her, and smell the sickly sweet mustiness as the new air tousles the desiccated rose petals pathetically littering her neck.

I bet she's still horny though.

D.

cjl

"And I will confess that both when I leave her and when I return I am perfectly happy to find her there, naked, strung up tightly and with not even a strap on."


So is the strap on usually for you or her????

ChrisMartin

Just so my conscience is clear, I have to add that the Tele came with a strap, but has never had a 'strap on'. We have no need for such things at Martin Towers (I only play sitting down). In fact, it has remained in the box with the spare picks and strings that came with it.

NylonDave

cjl wrote: »

So is the strap on usually for you or her????

Sorry there I meant to clarify earlier in the week but have busy at work, 'overtime' and 'putting in late nights for a new client'.

And it is a hard question.... they were confused times and looking back I see my thoughts and opinions have moved on. I will try and answer as honestly as I can.

In truth it was for both of us. I was above and somewhat behind as I held her up for the audience with the strap on. Then I would reach on top of the amp for one of the prosthetics and choose either the pink or the purple one or, on special occasions, the red one with the shark fin ridges on the side. Then I'd switch on.

The sound of the anticipatory hum comes to me now and also the sense of power as I, after some brief over excited fumbling, plug in. Then I'd reach around with the prosthetic and get to work.

She loved it, this is what she was made for. To be used hard in front of an audience, mainly boys in their late teens. Her whole purpose was to be seen and displayed in grimy videos, dimly lit clubs and seedy theatres. And the volume she could produce! The high squeals, the moans, the wah wah wah of her feedback, and sometimes when I used the ridges ones the screams that descended sharply in pitch before turned into low animal throaty growls.

They were heady days. But after the initial sense of power I started to feel contempt for my audience in the end myself too. I would see them watching, knowing that they thought that this was the only real way to play, the way a real man plays. The kind of playing that they saw in the pictures in magazines, all cheap dyed hair and leather and too much make up. And many of them had either never played or found a partner and the few who had or would would seldom got past first base so clumsy and deluded were they.

And I started to pity their ignorance, there was so much more to it than that. My electrified technique was so simple, so easily learned. Just up and down and up and down and up and down and always just as fast as and headlong as humanly possible. This was childsplay compared to the new things I had been learning with my sweet Flamenca.

And despite the easy praise and cheap admiration that such play earned me I started to suspect that continuing to perform in this style was undignified as I approached thirty. No one really wants to see an old man doing that kind of thing. Then there were the nights where I just wasn't feeling it and turned to drugs for inspiration, and finally at the end I had started to depend on them. I was a sad case by then, I needed drugs if I was to perform at all.

And she and I became almost strangers, she never called to me to be played with unless there was cash involved and a paying audience.

Yes it was a confusing time indeed. But not all is regret. Today as I sat to write, to give the question the respect it deserves with a full and honest answer, I felt wave after wave of nostalgia.


So I went to her and, not knowing quite what to expect and more than a little wary I cracked open the black stained wooden case... To find her much the same as always.



She still thrills to my touch and feels good in my arms and even with the strap on I am still capable of standing up and plugging into her.

Yet I put her away untouched, in the end didn't even give her a tune up.

I can't quite say why, maybe it is because I don't have any plectrums.

ChrisMartin

Thanks, best forum post EVER !
(possibly because I was in that audience....)

Dare I suggest a career as a novelist. or do you prefer to remain a wasted talent?