Horton's Music!!! Guitars in the Ozarks!!!

I am in the Ozarks! It might mean little to those of you who have no real concept of the area but to me it is as big a deal as when I walked across the Mississippi River. When I was a boy I read both Huckleberry Finn, about the river, and a book called Folk Tales and Legends from the Ozarks. Now, I remember almost nothing of the latter book, but it was mostly old wive’s tales and legends and all kinds of off kilter stuff about the people and the area, but it left an impression in my little kid brain that the Ozarks were a place I needed to see someday.
That time is now.
So as I entered the area, I immediately was impressed with the quaintness of it all. I was in Hardy, Arkansas, and there was a dulcimer shop right on the main drag. I have owned dulcimers in my life and play a little bit, but guitars were always my favorite instrument. The dulcimers in the shop were of very high quality and were lovely. The woman who worked there, though, was just an employee, and didnt really know much dulcimer lore, so we had little to talk about. I praised the shop, and the instruments and the town , and left. I headed up a mountain almost immediately. A four lane with no curb at all for me to push my cart, and I was in trouble, and when the local cop stopped me and told me I should keep on the grass, I did my best to oblige, but the steepness of the road and the lousy condition of the grassy area adjacent to the road made for a terribly hard workout. An hour later, I emerged at the top, sweating profusely and with heart pounding like I had just run a marathon. And voila! There, in a little strip plaza, was a music shop. There IS a heaven! Parking my cart, I walked into Horton’s Music.
Guitars, violins, and other instruments immediately jumped out at me. Another man was there and the owner of the store, Dennis Horton was explaining something about a guitar that I think the man had brought in for repairs. He asked me if he could help me and I just asked if I could try a few guitars, figuring that my sweaty self would be a reason for him to say “no”, but he said I could play anything I wanted to, and that he was in the middle of a lesson, and that if I needed any help to let him know.
I picked up a Taylor, a Martin and an old Gibson and gave them all a spin. The Taylor sounded best , the Gibson was old and awful. The Martin was a Martin. Nice. After not playing for a couple of months it was like caressing an old flame!
As I heard Mr. Horton leading the young man, named Jacob, through the introduction to Smoke on the Water, I left, saying a goodbye as I went out. As I got outside, I remembered that I had some John Lennon Imagine No Hunger pins and I grabbed a few and went back in. I interrupted the lesson to present them to Mr Horton, and he showed me the only poster he had in the entire shop---John Lennon in his NYC sleeveless shirt, proudly posing in New York. I retrieved my camera and snapped a photo of Mr. Horton and Jacob in front of the poster.
What a great little shop! Dennis Horton sure came across as real as real can get. He knows his stuff, and from what I heard him playing with young Jacob, he can really play as well. It was a delight to meet him, and the John Lennon connection was kind of special. I hope to visit there again.
Music is my life. Finding others as passionate about that music that I treasure is a special treat, and a rare one. The way to a man’s heart might be through his stomach sometimes, but through my ears works best for me. So to Dennis Horton, of Horton’s Music, on a mountaintop outside of Hardy Arkansas, I say,” Play, brother, play.”