My bass teacher was an alcoholic and a crook, but he was also something of a philosopher. And he used to say that we don’t really own our instruments, we are just the temporary caretakers of them. I think there’s a lot of truth in that.
Back in 1974 I bought a German-style double bass bow from a fellow student of mine. Since I stopped playing professionally in 1992, I’ve had about three occasions in which to use it. Most of the time it just takes up space on a shelf.
So I decided maybe it’s time to think about selling it and letting someone else use it for awhile.
I took it over to Johnson strings in Newton, Massachusetts. I was very surprised when they gave me a preliminary estimate of the value of it; I am used to discovering that people who sold me stuff when I was a vulnerable young kid had hosed me, so I was pleased to discover that this was a pretty decent bow. Turns out it is “old growth” pernambuco wood, which is no longer available. I felt a little bit like one of those people on antiques roadshow where they have that “moment” where someone finds out that what they own is worth a lot more than they thought it was.
So anyway, the real expert on their staff will look at it tomorrow, and after that we will figure out what to do.
I was not sure how I would react emotionally to selling this thing. After all, it went with me on a lot of adventures. Of course, it was also there for a lot of misery. I was afraid I might find the experience of letting it go to be upsetting, but surprisingly I am not all broken up about it. I mean, it was a good bow, I played 400 nutcrackers with it, other than the rehairs and a tip ivory fix, it never gave me any trouble. I once thought about mounting it or displaying it or something, but I hate it when people put instruments on display in museums and not allow them to be played.
So it came into my life and now it’s off on its next adventure. Good luck. I hope some young kid has as much fun and adventure with it as I did.
(this David Wilcox Song kinda sums it up:)
