Caution: the following entry starts off like tired socialist preaching; stick through it and you’ll encounter a refreshing bit about guitars. Or just forget the whole thing.

The more possessions one has, the lower his appreciation for any of them. They become disposable hindrances to acquiring the next, newer possession. Give me a wood shack on the side of a muddy flood-prone mountain in Central America, and give me a partially incapacitated guitar, and these only two possessions I’ll cherish with unequaled fondness. Even though I don’t play the guitar.