Years ago, my cousin rolled into town from Atlanta, carrying a beauty—a damn Ovation guitar. Thing looked like a piece of art, with all them holes in the top, like a leaf had been carved out of it. I picked it up, strummed a few chords, and fell in love. That sound? Clean, bright, like it had secrets to tell. And it was electric-acoustic too, felt like some next-level magic to me.
But let me tell you—dreams ain't cheap. That thin-body Ovation was out of my league, price-wise. I let it go, though it stuck in my head like a melody you can’t shake. Years passed. Life happened. Guitars came and went, but I never forgot that Ovation.
Fast forward to one day at a pawn shop. There she was. Not exactly the same—this one didn’t have all the fancy holes. Still a thin-body, though, with that signature plastic bowl on back. And the price? Finally low enough for my blueman budget. $200. Second-hand. Used, and waiting for someone to make her sing one more time.
I brought her home, and man, we had some good times. That plastic bowl back vibrates in a way that most guitars just don’t. You don’t just hear the music; you feel it in your belly, Every chord, every note—it was alive.
But, of course, nothing lasts forever, right? One day I got too curious and started messing with it. Lost some shims, botched the electronics, and before I knew it, the ol’ gal was sidelined. She sat in a corner, gathering dust, while I moved on to other guitars.
Recently, though, I pulled her back out. Something about that black finish, still shining after all those years, called me. I’ve got a Fishman pickup lying around, and I figured, hell, why not give her a second chance? She’s still got something to offer, especially for my street performances.
Only thing is, that slippery plastic back loves to slide right off my lap, so a strap is a must. But you know what? I’m ready to put in the work. Old Second Hand deserves another life to make some music and see the world again.
So here’s to Second Hand, still kickin’. What about you? You ever played an Ovation? Love it, hate it, got a story of your own? Let me know—I’d love to hear it.