Guitar Villain

This morning I was honored to play guitar in Grace's Christmas production, "Come Light Your World." I played acoustic for the first half and electric for the second half. Since I do not own an electric (although I wish I did...that would be GREAT) Clayton graciously loaned me his (This is a BIG deal that usually requires a deposit of blood and the promise of your first-born son). This is something I take very seriously for it is a great responsibility to cherish and protect someone else's baby. OK...all that to say that when I was putting it on it's stand this morning I did not check to make sure that it was balanced and as I turned away I saw it begin to fall. Now normally I am very quick to catch a guitar and would even sacrifice my body to protect one from harm but today...today I wounded my friend's guitar. It is an ever so small ding on the neck but I am still sick about it. Throughout the day the scene has been replaying in slow motion. "What could I have done differently?" "Why didn't I double check the stand?" "I should have gotten more sleep last night. Then I would have been able to reflex catch it." It's hopeless...I'm a guitar-aphile. I lured it away from it's owner and I robbed it of it's perfection. I'm guilty of first-degree neck-murder and there is no punishment to fit the crime. Thankfully Clayton was very gracious and saved his tears for the privacy of his own home. He said, "It had to happen sometime." But why did it have to happen to me? I'm sorry Clayton. I'm sorry Fender. I'm sorry Stevie, Jimi, Eric and Phil. I'm sorry world. I do not deserve to bear the name "guitarist."