The Antique Music Shop

Disclaimer: This is just a googled image. The photo is not the actual shop i visited.
The walk was much needed. It was my personal quiet time with myself and my hobby. I didn't initially plan on going down Elgin Street but thought why not; I had time to kill, nothing to do but follow a lead my friend tossed my way a week or two ago.

"Yeh, down Elgin street. Some 2nd hand music shop. It was a steal but 2nd hand lah"

That's all I had, no names, no shop titles, no directions save for 'down Elgin'... So with that, i ventured down the street that I'd never have thot twice of. The weather was good for a walk with the sun shining at just the right spots of the path that let me experience both sun and shade in the stride of a block. It was a calm day, the trees echoed my thoughts as they gently brushed through the air, careless and carefree; at least for this span of time. The cars trickled by; One, two, Camry, four; this part of the street didn't get much traffic.

I almost walked past it. Sitting right on the mainroad yet so conspicuous from the exterior. The stained windows and wrought iron parapet fencing that danced along the window. The rust on the iron shuddered its age and richness. I peered in and making out shapes moving inside, I was comforted that the walk was not in vain. Reaching out, i pushed the door inwards as a jangle of bells at the foot announced my entry.

"G'day mate, how y'going?" Looking through his half moon spectacles, the plump yet fatherly store owner raised his head to greet me.

"I'm good thank you. I'll just have myself a look around if you don't mind yeh?" Wondering if I had overstepped my welcome in assuming this shop was opening for viewing. I glanced around and took in the brown bodies lining different areas of the wall. Standing embossed along walls of torn wallpaper and semi collaged posters, the instruments that hung from them looked amazingly rich.

I took a stroll through the small archway that led to the guitar section and a smile spread across my face as I turned left and right to absorb the guitars that hung and lay against the walls of this new section. Baby taylors, Fenders, Yamahas, Epiphone; all antiquely coloured and shaped. I grinned at how their price tags seemed to fight with their age as they went old guns blazing, never wanting to give up their value. Interesting, to me, was the way they became so much more valued with age. As I walked around, the colours that peeked out of their wooden bodies were such a refreshing sight as a sea of brown and mahogany encapsulated my vision. I took a twirl around the room and noticed a sign at the back of the room that hung above a small passageway leading into the back of the store.

'Cheaper acoustic, electric, bass guitars at the back'

An arrow cleverly inviting me into an offer I couldn't refuse. All these modules about creative advertising made me wonder to myself if I was drawn to the back because of the mystery of what was behind those walls or whether it was just in response to the sign. Whatever it was, i felt my foot stretch out and glide towards the passageway. The floorboard beneath my feet creaked as i inched towards the passageway. It snaked right then left and finally a hard right into a back room. The guitars that hung here were different from those in front. These weren't polished acrylic, they were old wooden beauties. They were like Pinocchio, carved from wood for a specific reason and each screamed a story; A story of their origins and their treatment as till the present. I allowed my fingers the lustful temptation they desired as I stroked the brown wood that resonated with quality. Even the air was musky, understandable for a section not normally visited. I looked up and each guitar that hung on the walls were 2nd hand and cheaper but yet, each and every one of them made me want to just sit down in front of them and listen to them tell me their own individual story. I picked up one, unwilling to let a chance like this pass me by, and I let loose its tongue. The sound that it produced was full, complete and it lingered on. It chuckled at me and spoke

'Sonny boy, in my days, guitars were for the rich and I was handcrafted for greatness'.

".. here today yeh? would that be possible yeh?" I heard the voice of the owner draft in from the main section of the hall as he spoke to a customer. Snapping me back from my teleported state, I put the guitar respectfully down and bade it farewell as I turned my back on this section of the shop. I looked over my shoulder before departing and knew that this place held riches far beyond that of kings. Its beauty was encrusted in time and its stories along with it.

"Goodbye pappy, I'll be back another day to hear the rest of that tale yeh" I thought to myself as I made my way back to the main area of the shop.

"Nothing catch your eye my boy?" The owner enquired while he leaned ever so slightly back and tilted his head towards my direction.

"Nothing that I can afford nor anything I feel worthy to own." I pinched back letting a bit of my enthusiasm loose. "But thanks, this has given me the inspiration to strive hard at playing it well to do some of these guitars justice" I grinned as I made my way to the exit.

"Soon son, soon. Cheers mate!"

"I'll be seeing you! Have a good day" and I walked back into reality. Elgin looked so new, so advanced and yet so dead to me now that I had breathed a bit of the world, a bit of the time that I never was born into. I then understood what the rusty wrought iron gate was there for. It wasn't to keep people out from the shop nor was it to protect the exterior of the shop. No, it was there to keep the stories in, to keep the heritage alive inside, it was protecting the instruments inside from being tainted by the world outside.

It worked and nothing could steal that small back room experience from me. It was my little Antique Music Shop.