THE ONES THAT GOT AWAY

FENDER TELECASTER THINLINE 1969

It’s 2024 and I haven’t added a new story to the “blog” in years. In fact, I thought for sure that I had written about this one in the past. But evidently not. So, here’s the story of my favorite electric guitar I have ever owned and the one I would want back the most. It’s the inspiration for The Ones That Got Away.

In the 1990's, I was in a band called The Deadlites, and we had our own bus (not amazing, but it was ours), and we played some cool shows, opening for some great bands in concert, and even touring across the country one time. In fact, the guy who booked the bands at San Diego’s Belly Up Tavern (one of the best places you can play anywhere) loved us and vowed to make us San Diego’s next big band. He had us opening for Cheap Trick and The Plimsouls and Joe Bonamassa’s much hyped early band…and then the guy dropped dead of a heart attack in his early 40s. And we never got booked there again. To the other clubs in San Diego, we just weren’t seen as one of the cool San Diego bands that played shitty music at the time but got signed to record deals. There…I said it. We weren’t bad enough musicians. We wrote songs with hooks and had great musicians and maybe we just didn’t fit into the scene at the time. That’s okay. We had fun. And a bus.

I didn’t have a lot of money at the time, but anytime I got paid a little extra for a freelance job or something like that, I would immediately spend it on a guitar or amp or pedal. I had been playing an awesome Rickenbacker 330 at the time that I loved, but I had gotten it in a trade with a coworker and a couple of years later, he wanted to trade back. I felt like it was the right thing to do, but the trade was for an acoustic and now I was going to need a good electric guitar again. I had just gotten paid for a freelance job and had $2000 in my pocket. Not for long. At the time, you could go up to Hollywood and on Sunset was the big Guitar Center with the awesome vintage room that would make your eyes bug out. Across the street was Guitars’R’Us where all the rock stars shopped, and down the street was Voltage Guitars, another vintage shop with an incredible selection on any given day. Freedom Guitars was on the corner, though I never liked them. And Mesa Boogie had a company store next to Guitars’R’Us. It was guitar heaven.

So, with $2000 in my pocket, I drove up to Hollywood from San Diego on a quest to buy my new baby. Guitars’R’Us had some Telecasters but nothing I wanted or could afford. But in the back room, behind a half-propped closed door, I could hear someone trying out some acoustic guitars and his voice sounded familiar. The owner was working with him and trying to feel out what he was looking for. After a few failed attempts, the door opened and out walked Bruce Springsteen. He saw me looking at Teles and stopped to look as well. Then he left. I decided to walk down the street to Voltage Guitars to see what they had. Turns out, Bruce was walking down there too, so I was walking behind him about 40 feet. He was by himself and he looked back a couple of times like maybe I was stalking him. So I said, “I’m just headed to Voltage,” and pointed down the street. He nodded and we both walked into Voltage one after the other. The Boss headed into the acoustic room, and I headed over to the Telecasters where I immediately fell in love with a black Thinline Telecaster from 1969. That would have made it a custom color. It had some honest wear, sort of like a light to medium relic job by Fender these days. I knew right away I wanted it…it felt amazing in my hands and sounded awesome without even plugging it in. And I can tell you that me being a mediocre guitar player, I wasn’t about to plug it in and strum it in front of Bruce Springsteen. Just about that time, Bruce emerged from the acoustic room and looked over at me and the Thinline Telecaster and gave me his nod of approval, then walked out the door. I took it over to the owner and asked how much it was. “$2000,” he said without looking up. I said, “I have exactly $2000 in cash in my pocket. No more for tax or anything else.” He said that worked for him and it was mine.

I put it in my truck and drove back south and decided to stop in another guitar store in Huntington Beach that was known for having some incredible Marshall Amps and lots of newer effects pedals, one of which I wanted to test out. The owner pulled out this new Way Huge Swollen Pickle fuzz pedal from the cabinet and plugged it in for me to test. I said, “I just bought a guitar earlier and is it okay to bring it in for the test?” Of course! I plugged in the Telecaster and immediately another customer walked over and asked me about the guitar. “Is that your guitar or the store’s?” It was the lead singer from Los Lobos, David Hidalgo. I was really into their album Kiko at the time, so I was trying to play it cool. I told him it was mine and I had just bought it at Voltage. He asked if I would sell it to him. I told him sorry, but I just got it and I think I’m in love with it. He told me to get in touch if I ever sold it.

So… now it’s mine. And it’s the coolest, best electric guitar I have ever owned. I loved it. I played a lot of shows with it, touring the country, just feeling like it’s part of me more than any other guitar. And then…I got a letter from the IRS. I owed them money. A pretty fair amount. I will interject this story now to advise you that, if you ever get a letter from the IRS, don’t mess around. Call them. Work it out. Because one day, right when your rent is due and you have a young daughter you have custody of, the IRS might empty your bank account. And then what do you do? You sell your 1969 Fender Telecaster Thinline that Bruce Springsteen approves of and Los Lobos guy wants and you have to do it today. No time to “get in touch” with David Hidalgo. And so, that’s what happened. I took it to a vintage store in San Clemente and took the guy’s best offer, went home and paid my rent, and lived to tell another day. It sucks, but it happens. If you don’t pay the IRS. And I would LOVE to find that guitar again someday, but it’s now worth a LOT more than $2000. And I’m not in a band any more. Not a real one that plays gigs anyway.

It truly is, my One That Got Away.

THE DEALITES, CIRCA 1998?

PUBLISHED SEPTEMBER 9, 2024