Why Nobody Plays the Long Neck

Madonna of the Long Neck by PARMIGIANINO

I was talking to a guy in a shop on Queen Street who found out I had a long-neck and wanted to know if I wanted to buy another one. Turns out he had a 1960's Epiphone - same kind that got broken under my back by the shove of the bouncer. I told him that I hadn't liked mine very much either.
Later on I felt bad (I actually felt bad that I'd insulted that guy's banjo) and so I went back to the store and explained that I'd just begun to get some good sound out of my Epiphone when it got broken, and that I was sure I would have come to love it and that he should hold onto his.
Turns out he didn't want to sell it because of the way it sounded. He loved the way it sounded. He wanted to sell it because it was so cumbersome and heavy and difficult to play.
I have back-problems, which have gotten worse in recent years (although I'm told that men experience such problems between their 40's and their 60's and then they evaporate. Hmm. I wonder why.) I've often wondered whether the extra reach demanded by the long-neck has been one of the factors. There was awhile when I considered getting a snare-drum stand to hook it onto, so I could just stand behind it when I played in public. I may yet do that. It would look pretty cool, I think, just hanging there in space, ready to be played.
Still, I wonder if that's the reason why the long-neck is not so popular. Surely it's not Pete Seeger's fault, is it? Maybe people don't want to hear that deep rich sound. They'd rather a high twang then a low buzzing thrumb. The other thing I've noticed about it is, like many large things, the long-neck has to go at its own pace. It takes a real sense of precision to speed up and in some cases you just can't. It's a stately instrument, more like an elephant than a horse.
Now, there might be no point in playing a stately version of 'Devil's Dream', but there are many bluegrass and fiddle-tunes that were at one time delicate, pretty melodies. Wildwood Flower springs to mind. It's as haunting as they come and I'm convinced that it was first written to be played (and sung) at the pace of a love-song, which is what it is. But, generally-speaking, Wildwood Flower hasn't been played like that in about a hundred years, except by beginners. Same could be said for Groundhog, whose tune is as pretty as they come. Of course it seems absurd to sing

Here comes Sally with a snigger and grin
Here comes Sally with a snigger and a grin
Ground hog gravy all over her chin,
Oh Ground Hog!

any way but as fast as you can, but if you apply an old medieval lyric to the tune, such as

Western Wind, when will thou blow
The small rain down can rain
Christ if my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again,

(which was reportedly found carved on the chest plate of a suit of armour) then the virtues of a slow rendition of the Groundhog tune become readily apparent.

In short, the long-neck demands a certain commitment to sostenuto. A certain stateliness. I started to play the banjo in 1992 to give me something useful to do when I got old, and as a preventative measure against illness, which was a subject heavy on my mind at the time. It wasn't until I acquired the long-neck that I found the instrument to match the notion that there's really no point in rushing.

Now if only I could do something about the back problems.