I was just falling asleep on the couch to an old Edward G. Robinson and Ginger Rogers movie called Tight Spot, when I spotted something that made me sit up and take notice: a Fender Stratocaster guitar that, if it still exists today and is in decent shape, is worth tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands, of bucks.
It probably cost, I don't know, less than a hundred dollars back then.
Funny, the movie context in which it appeared is that as Ginger is being loosely interrogated in a hotel room by detectives, she is trying to find something good on TV, which she derides as a new and artless medium (the movie was released in 1955). She lights on a telethon where this hillbilly band is playing some cornball number that I barely heard because I saw this Strat, which must have been one of the first, since Fender started selling it in 1954.
The Strat is beautiful and legendary. It's an ergonomic sculpture, a work of art. Good ones sound great and feel great in your hands. Back in the day guitar playing boys must have thought it was a miracle (at about the same time girls were getting their rock & roll miracle, Elvis). It is the axe of choice of Buddy Holly, Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton and many, many other guitar heros. It's won industrial design awards, has been endlessly copied, is owned and loved slavishly by mediocre players like me.
One of the most beautiful objects in the world, my friends, the Fender Stratocaster. Hail, Leo Fender!
