They're under every bed in the house. The closets are full of them. There are drawers and cabinets and boxes, jammed full. One shed and a utility room behind the house overflow. Memories. Come get them. Not only am I selling everything right down to the bare walls, I'm selling the walls, too.
Folks keep asking me, "Ronny, doesn't it kill you to get rid of these guitars, these mementos, souvenirs, tokens, keepsakes?"
Let's remember here that I'm the biggest sentimental fool to ever come down the pike.
Now I'm without a car for the first time since I was fourteen years old. Feels great. Of course friends have loaned me a car so I'm not huffing, puffing or hitchhiking. For now.
In March I began making new memories. Oh, I don't forget anything. I became the man that I am over a very long time. I don't need things to remind me of who I am.
Meantime, if you need stuff- I'm your man. There are even a few guitars left!