Ode to the Bigsby

A wisdom-dipped friend of mine said he'd put a Bigsby on a Bigsby if he could. My brain can't wrap itself around the hypothetical sound of a vibrato being vibrato'd -- but I'm sure it would make your knees wobble a bit.

Since I came unto the joy of the Bigsby during my fling with a green-sparkl'd Gretsch Duo Jet, I can't imagine guitaring without the reassuring chromy handle tapping up against the side of my picking hand, awaiting the full-chord strum grip-down that seems to make its way into every thing I play now.

The sound noise makes when it passes through the loosen'd prism -- like being dipped in a pool just far enough for your ears to fill with water but having your eyes dry above the ripply surface.

Without it there would be no Rebel Rouser.

I think I may go with a fixed arm version soon -- which is so obtrusive that vibrato becomes sometimes accidental. There would be no ignoring it.

I wish I had it in my hand now.