Duane was my first guitar student here in Albany Park. He'll always have a special place in my heart. He came to me with a charming personality, quick wit and a willingness to learn about music. I had no choice but to love him.
That being said, I've wanted to murder him at least once a week since our initial meeting.
One night he called me and asked about the fingering of an A minor 9 chord I had written out for him. He said that he had been practicing and he was going to surprise me next time we got together. That sounded fine to me. He kept talking and I wasn't really sure he was getting at. He was talking about paying me for two or three lessons or something like that. When the conversation felt like it was coming to a natural end I just said, "all right, I'll see you Wednesday." Then Duane said, "I guess I'm not making myself clear, I need to borrow $10 and I will pay you back on Wednesday when we have my lesson. I told him that I would love to loan him the money, but I just couldn't right now. He understood.
The next lesson was Wednesday at 6 pm. I called and got no answer. I went over to his apartment only to see a Mexican guy grilling some chicken out on his balcony. I yelled up to him and asked if Duane was there. The guy went and got him and he buzzed me in. They were getting ready to eat. Duane said he couldn't afford a lesson right now. After having me tune his guitar, answer some questions and demonstrate a few techniques, he pretty much had one anyway.
The following Wednesday, I didn't hear from him. I tried to find him to no avail. A girl I've seen with him told me he was helping a friend move.
A week later, I was walking down Lawrence avenue and there was a well dressed man off in the distance. When he got close, I saw that it was Duane. He was coming from his 16 year old nephew's funeral. All he said was "yeah, they shot him." I told him I was leaving town for a few days. He thought I was leaving for good. He was shaking my hand and wouldn't let go. I told him I would be back soon. I was happy to have run into him.
This past Sunday, he called and said that he needed to go to the far south side to pick up $200. He just needed to borrow $10 to get there. I told him I would loan him my CTA pass. He never came to get it. A few days later, I saw him walking down the street and he asked if I could tune his guitar. I told him that I would meet him in 10 minutes. When I went down to meet him, No Duane. I went again in another 10 minutes. No Duane. Then, I went one last time and he was not there. Frustrating.
Today, he called and asked if I would tune his guitar. I said I would be down in 15 minutes. He showed up this time with his little sunburst guitar. He handed it to me and I saw that the neck had come loose from the body. The strings were about an inch from the neck. I told him I could repair it by putting a drywall screw through the heel of the neck into the block inside the body.
I told him I would have it by tomorrow. He asked if he could borrow one of my guitars. I told him it would be like loaning him my toothbrush.
I called Joe who told me exactly what to do. It took 15 minutes. I tuned it up and called Duane. His wife answered. I asked her to tell him to meet me outside.
As he was walking toward me, I did some of my best Delta Blues. He smiled ear to ear. I handed it to him and told him it sounded better than it did before. He began to laugh uncontrollably. He was so happy and he played his A minor 9 chord. It sounded good. He gave me a big hug and squeezed real tight. His ear touched my cheek and it was really cold.
He said he'd be all set with money in a few days and he would see me next Wednesday. Sounds like a plan.
