Donated by John M. Saylor
From the Book of Purple
...And it came to pass that Brother John Saylor came upon Friar Simon Squire Hooter. "Put down thy lutes, brothers. I have read the Slowhand list and there is to be a great Teaching in the land. We must go to the City by the sea to learn of the Blues...." And the three pilgrims set off to the Great City seeking the Temple at Madison Square. As the sun was sinking past the spires of the Great City, they entered the dark Temple, accosted by hordes of merchants selling strange garb, all bearing His visage. Within, strange banners hung on high--Frazier, Reed, Bradley, McGuire, Giacomin, Gilbert...Stanley Cup--and the place was filled with all manner of heathens great and small. "Are we sure there is to be a Great Teaching here?" asked Brother John. "Maybe the list I read was a False list..." "Nay, brother," said Squire Hooter. "He is here. Mark well my words. Look upon these hairy multitudes. "These are not come to drink from the Cup of Stanley." "That Grail will never be in this place again," said Friar Simon, with a faint shudder, "But hark..." The Pilgrims looked to the front of the temple as a heavenly light beamed from above illuminating a clutter of Black Ampegs, Tweedy Fenders, a lone Mesa, a monster drum kit, and a host of shining guitars of inestimable worth. "I covet all of these things," said Brother Saylor, "and would have them in my house. How late does Manny's stay open on Tuesday evenings...? My purse hangs heavy on my Tinley's...." But before the others could reply, a great din arose as a gaunt figure entered the Temple. In his left hand was a fire-red 335 Gibson and in his right, a pearly white Stratocaster. Gentle did he lay the Strat into the arms of an acolyte and take unto his body the 335...his long pale fingers caressed the strings...he began to sing of the Blues and a great Teaching was heard by the people. And then, bathed in white light, he took unto himself the Strat and asked of the multitude, "Hast thou ever loved a woman?" The banners shook as they roared back at Him. Midway through this testament, he fell to his knees and his brethren took up the melody while he sat, head bowed, damp locks brushing the silent strings of the Strat, seemingly lost. Then he Then He looked up with his sad eyes, arose, and walked towards the people to give unto them the ultimate Blues, the guitar like a shining sword in his hands. "This is a great, great Teaching indeed," said Brother Saylor to his fellows. But the Friar Simon was transfixed and Squire Hooter had swooned. And finally, when He had said all there was to say, He stood alone in the white light, pale hands at his sides, the pearly Strat dangling from his neck and looked upon the temple dwellers and gave them one last teaching with only his voice to play. Then he brandished the Strat one more time and the longest Blue note of the night pierced their hearts and told them to take the Teaching back to their villages, to the hills, to the cities, wherever the Blues must be heard. "We must tell them of this Teaching at the Inn in Dryden (SEPT. 30)," said Brother Saylor. "Verily and we must tell them of these Blues in Kuma's den (OCT. 7) and the Citadel of the Nines (OCT. 19)," quoth the Hooter. "Forsooth, let us not forget to bring this Teaching to Slaterville and the Crooked Board (OCT. 14)," said Simon. "By my truncheon, we'll take it to the Rongo if they ever let us in," cried Brother Saylor. "But, wait, let us to Manny's...I feel like buying the entire store...whither 48th street and 7th...?" Alas, the merchants had shuttered their shops for the night and despite Brother Saylor's furious knocking and gnashing of teeth he was unable to purchase any new equipment. Abandoning his brethren, he ran downtown searching for the pawn shops of the East Village which service the knaves of the night.