Some years ago I published a multi-part blog about my guitars. I am shortly about to add another to the collection and, like all of my instruments, it has a story to tell. However, I want to tell the story today about my “school” guitar (pictured above) If you want to read the tragic story of its previous owner and how it came into my possession, you can do so in the link below,
A couple of months ago I was practising with the guitar and I noticed that the top deck was lifting off the sides at the bottom of the body. It seemed like a relatively easy fix so I took the strings off to lessen the tension on the body and glued the top back down. I left it clamped up for several days to give the wood glue maximum chance to stick and went to string it up again when I noticed that the body was also pulling away under where the neck goes into the body. Unusually for a nylon string guitar, this one, unbranded, has an adjustable neck, so I loosened off the adjustment rod and checked to see if this would allow the body to be glued back together.
It didn’t and, no matter how much I adjusted, I was unable to detach the neck from the body. Reasoning that I had done as much as I could do with my limited ability as a luthier, I took the guitar to my local guitar shop and asked them if they would have a look. The owner and founder of the business is widely respected in the Illawarra and far beyond its boundaries both as a musician and a luthier, even building and selling his own-branded guitars so I figured it was the best place to take it.
The guy in the shop said that Phil had now retired and wasn’t working in the shop any more but that this sort of “odd” repair was just the sort of thing that would appeal to him and that he was sure Phil would love to have a crack at it. The only caveat was that, since Phil had retired, it may take a while to get it done. I wasn’t worried, I was in no hurry, I just wanted it fixed.
It transpires that Phil went on an extended holiday at this stage so I wasn’t surprised that it was quite a long while before I heard from the shop. Just last week I got a text saying that it was fixed and ready to be picked up and the price was $82. I was happy on both counts so I rocked on down to the shop to pick it up.
However, when I checked it out at the shop I noticed that the timber around the neck was still unattatched to the top deck, the reason why I had put the guitar in for repair to start with. A new set of strings had been fitted but it hadn’t been repaired. I pointed this out and asked, very politely, if they could have another look at it and see if they could get it any better and left the guitar there and came home. Basically the salesman told me that it was a really odd design inside the guitar and that fixing it properly was “too hard”.
I hadn’t been home more than half an hour when I received another text saying that it was ready to be picked up, the price was $82 and that, “no further repairs were possible.” I thought this was strange and, on returning to the shop I found that nothing had apparently been done to the instrument at all.
I paid my money and left with the guitar. I didn’t make a fuss though I am certain that I was fully justified in doing so and I remarked to my wife as we drove away that that would be the last time that I would be patronising that business.
An hour or so after getting home I received a telephone call from a number that I didn’t recognise, “Hi, Phil, this is Phil and I understand that you have had a problem with your guitar.” He went on to say that the salesman with which I had dealt had contacted him and told him that I was not happy with what had happened. It transpires that, in the process of fitting the strings, he had dislodged something that had “sprung” the timber and taken it back to the previous unfixed state. Phil apologised profusely, noted that he had “revved up” the salesman and that I should return the guitar to him where he would make sure that it was properly fixed.
Yesterday I received a text saying that the guitar was fixed and was ready to be picked up, total cost $0.
All of which proves the truth of one of my dad’s favourite sayings, “You catch more bees with honey than you do with vinegar.”