FINAL NOTE

On the Welcome page is a photograph of my first guitar, a Harmony Hollywood purchased in 1957. It was glossy black with a wide gold stripe down the center of the soundboard. It had large face markers painted on a stained maple fingerboard and a stencil of The Oscar on the headstock. The original finish has long since been stripped away and a cutaway added.

The unique cutaway design required thinning the side before bending it into a scroll. Sawing away half the thickness of the thin maple side was extremely challenging and seemingly impossible. The tour de force marked my introduction to the art of luthiery in the early seventies.

Today my old guitar and I continue to be a work in progress. Along with binding and refinishing the instrument I look forward to a whole lot of other projects awaiting completion. This website is one. A guitar-making and a guitar repair video with Bill is another. “Harry, The Musical” will have to wait.

You Ain’t Old

Words by Harry Becker & Charles Hunter

Music by Harry Becker

You get up in the morning and your back’s in pain.

Could this be the day you’re gonna need a cane?

But you’re so young how can this be?

Wasn’t it just yesterday when you were dancin’?

Mean ole’ mirror wants you to believe

you’re gonna wither quicker than an autumn leaf.

Truth is cold, but you ain’t old,

you just been young so long

Seems you can’t remember where you parked your car,

half the time you don’t know who or where you are.

You’re so sure you lost your mind.

It’s just a little faded from a long exposure.

Hair turns gray and starts to shed.

Soon there’ll be more on the floor than on your head.

Wipe that shoulder, you ain’t old, nah,

you just been young so long

So go and shine the finest shoes you got.

I bet you still remember how to tie the knot.

Comb that hair put on that smile.

Baby you still got it, so let’s go flauntin’.

Strut your stuff, show some pride,

Put a little spirit in your stride.

You never lost your taste for style and grace,

and such an inspiration to the other kids now

Someday soon beneath December’s moon

You’ll find your skin all shriveled up just like a prune.

Long deep lines upon your face,

how can there be so many wrinkles in one place?

And some New Year someone will cheer,

Turn to you and say “Good God! Are you still here?”

Truth be told, you ain’t old,

You just been young hell,

you’re just bloomin,’

you just been young so long.