One day last summer I was driving down the hill to the local market town for bits and pieces. Saw a 'bike down in the middle of the road, so stopped and asked the chap in black leathers if he was OK. When he turned I could see he was my age-ish- late 50s, grey beard, that sort of thing. "Fine" he said, "only had this thing a couple of days", so I drove on. Got to town, parked, and burst out laughing. My wife, I thought, is luckier than she knows. There was a chap who may not have ridden a 'bike since he was in his early 20s, gone out and bought himself a 500cc monster- he may not have lasted the year. With some men it's bikes- live fast, die middle-aged. With others it's women half their age- good grief, like I still actually could, y'know? With me it's guitars. You know where I am, who I'm with, and what I'm doing. I'm not bankrupting us with a Harley or a gold-digger. Ok, so the floor is covered in sawdust and the downstairs loo always smells of linseed oil and varnish. You know every blues in G backwards and there are guitars everywhere. But I can see now do TWO things with my hands- cook kick-ass food AND make musical instruments that really work. Both skills for a post-oil age- and I think I may be happier than at any time in my adult life.

Truly, build what you play, play what you love, and love what you build.