I didn’t plan it.
The Gold Glory had been resting in her case for longer than I could remember. No expectation. No agenda. Just a routine check — twist her knobs, make sure no dust or rust had settled in. That was all I meant to do.
But something nudged me to plug her in. Maybe curiosity. Maybe coincidence. Maybe providence.
What followed was five minutes of revelation.
I played Love, Me by Collin Raye in C major. She responded not like a backup guitar, not like an understudy — but like a lead voice ready to take center stage. She wasn’t showy. She wasn’t polished. But she was present. Her voice rang with warmth, clarity, and something that felt honest. I was stunned.
This was supposed to be a simple maintenance check.
Instead, it became a crossroads.
Because for all her charm and class, my Collings 290 DC S — a fantastic guitar with a rich P90 tone — suddenly felt redundant. The Gold Glory gave me everything I needed, everything I didn’t know I was still looking for.
In that moment, I knew:
she stays.
And the 290? She moves on. Not because she failed. But because the Gold Glory arrived.
Five minutes. That’s all it took.
And I’ll never forget it.
One more thing:
On her truss rod cover, the Gold Glory proudly wears the phrase **“Blues Power.”** It’s not part of her official name, but it’s not just decoration either.
It’s a declaration — Jared James Nichols’ motto. A signature, a stamp of spirit.
If Gold Glory is her name, then *Blues Power* is her tattoo. And she wears it like she means it.