There is something nerve wracking about replacing the strings on your guitar, at least for me. During the quarantine I decided to silence once and for all my father’s voice when I announced I was taking up the violin in the 4th grade (Joo-Sun Kim and Stephanie Kim both took up the violin and I was in a battle to beat them on all academic fronts) but he was adamant. Clarinet he said. So I was stuck and though I loved the clarinet and managed to get into the city kids orchestra and was first chair I was allergic to the reeds both plastic and wood and ended up choosing perfect skin over becoming the first black female Klezmer superstar.

Back to the violin, bored and housebound as we all were, I saw a cheap violin on a cheap site and ordered it. I never managed to play anything resembling a song. I did however, reverse Pied Pipered Penny the Dog with my high-pitched screeching. Even after I fed her bacon and steak whenever my ex was committed/jailed/ or hid in the crawlspace. Restringing that cheap piece of cork board after spending a ridiculous amount of money for new ones and then having them snap (twisted neck the culprit) has colored my relationship with the true instrument of my soul, the guitar. I just purchased a used Epiphone Les Paul and though everything else about it was great, but the strings need to be thinner for my middle-aged fingers. My acoustic needs to have the bridge replaced but whoever owned it must have used super glue because no amount of Goo Be gone will dislodge it.

I have procrastinated enough. Restringing this guitar will take most of the day but it’s a part of owning one.