Hey Boris. I’m really sorry. I never thought you would be kidnapped. Guitar-napped? I guess the proper term really would be “stolen.” It’s been a month. I think I should just accept it now.
But I really didn’t think it would happen. I mean, you were always safely ensconced in your case when you weren’t with me. And more often than not, you’d be in the trunk.
Yes, Puddul’s trunk may not have been the absolutely best housing. The massive swing in temperature really isn’t good for any instrument, but you took it in stride. I didn’t detect any warping. And there was such a nice space for you at the bottom of the cage. Really, it was the perfect fit. And you didn’t even mind when Yaris would try to use your case as a step stool.
And you sounded good in Puddul’s interior. You kept me from going insane in the middle of the work day. It helped knowing that if I needed to, I could spend some time with you during lunch. And…now I can’t. And the kids don’t have any accompaniment anymore either. It’s going to be tough times ahead. The blue shell is still around, but I can’t carry the blue shell around with me everywhere. He’s much too big.
I really hope whoever kidnapped you has realized that you’re a really good companion. Hopefully you’re travelling the world now and seeing new sights and experiencing new things and delighting kids in different parts of the world with your funny shape but great portability and nice action and warm tone in a small, enclosed space.
Hope you have a nice life, Boris.
Random moosages as I see fit. 