2 posts tagged “music”
It was a gift... unexpected... and unaware you needed it until it was there.
The best kind of gift.
Lunchtime in downtown StP. The tension of a work morning at a terminal screen raised the anxiety level.
Where was the relief?
It came in the form of music.
Everywhere you turned the notes came at you - on a course to soothe.
From Mancini's Pink Panther theme to Brubeck's "Take Five" to Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower."
The songs were different but they all plucked the same chord within.
You found yourself noticing the friendly nods of the musicians to those who went by.
You smiled at their understated "thank you" as the passerbys dropped money into the plastic coffee can or the saxophone case.
It was a gift, by God.
A few bucks wasn't nearly enough in return.
Tell me if you uber-amateur musicians have this experience.
I pick up the old axe (well, it's a cheap Fender acoustic so maybe axe isn't the right word)... maybe pocket knife.
Anyway I pick up the guitar and start playing. The finger, lacking any sort of callouses, feel the burn of the strings. The buzz in the notes is, well, very apparent.
I kick into a song and immediately muff the chord change. Try again, the botch comes a little later. Progress.
Then I go for a little lead riff. Just a major scale, pick around it a bit, see what happens. It's going nowhere. I cring when I slide one fret too low. There's no spontaneity whatsoever.
So, to make myself feel better, I play a few of the old songs. "Roxanne" (that early Police tune) ... a couple of the easy Beatles tunes. Then I try "Hey, Hey, My, My" (the version with the Johnny Rotten lyrics, even though I'm not playing electric). I'm stunned as I can't even pull off the early note sequence.
I stop and look at my hands. Wonder what's going on in there. I want to blame the guitar (like the ballplayer looks at his glove as the ball runs through him).
Yeah, that's it ... blame the guitar. It's a piece of junk. No wonder I couldn't play well.
If crappy music is coming out of it... it must be a ... Chitar. (see left).
Yes... this is the reason why I can't play the music as I did as a 20-year-old, when I had time on my hands and practiced like a kid with nothing better to do.
It had nothing to do with me -- it was the damn guitar.
And then I looked at my hands again... and smirked. And played some more without judgment. It was fun and then the kids called.
I put it down and figured it would be August before the strings would be plucked again. Sound familiar?
