Music shop

It's Dan's 13th birthday in a few days' time and I decided to buy him a guitar amp. I'm in a Facebook group with a bunch of other music lovers, some of whom are musicians, so I asked for a bit of advice. There were some useful suggestions, including one that I should take Dan and his guitar to a few music shops so he could plug in and see which amps sounded best.

Today, then, we headed down to Manchester to do just that. We swung by the Minx's on the way, so that we could liberate her from the house where she's been trapped since her operation on Tuesday and drop her off at Yard and Coop in the Northern Quarter for a catch up with our friend Bibi while Dan, Abi and I headed across to Dawson's Music. We were met by a very helpful chap called Andy, with whom I'd exchanged emails, yesterday, and who was happy to take Dan off and show him around. As Dan seemed entirely comfortable with this, Abi and I went for a mooch about.

It quickly became clear that Dan felt quite at home, sat in the middle of the shop, playing his guitar through various amps, so rather than pressure him, we popped next door for a coffee and cake. (Incidentally, people thinking of opening coffee shops, next door to a music shop is a Very Good Location.)

After about half an hour we received a text from Dan saying that he thought he was done, so we popped back. He's a modest little fellow and had opted for an amp that he thought was a reasonable price. However, as he plays the guitar for a couple of hours or more every day, and has been doing so for the last few months, I had a slightly bigger budget and so we were able - after convincing Dan that it was OK - to buy one that he loved but thought was out of reach.

Our helpful chap Andy went off to get a boxed amp from out the back and brought it back to the counter. "Don't worry" he announced cheerily, "It's not as heavy as it looks." Now, that may have been true, and indeed, for the first hundred yards or so after we left Dawson's. Yard and Coop didn't seem impossibly distant. After that, though, its weight began to tell, as did the awkward way the edges pressed on my tendons. Soon we were stopping every fifty yards or so, in order for me to rest my arms. A sweat, it's safe to say, had been broken into.

Eventually, we made it back to Yard and Coop, where I sank gratefully into a seat while the amp lurked heftily nearby. Fortunately, there was not much carrying to be done after that. I brought the car 'round and the last bit of lifting was from the market square to the cottage. Oh, and up two flights of stairs.

But it was worth it. I didn't have it in my heart to deny Dan the amp until Thursday - thus breaking one of my unbreakable rules - and the little fellow had a happy time, plugged in and playing along to Green Day. I love that little guy so much that sometimes it makes my heart hurt. And, on this occasion, my arms!

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