Can I be any more clearer than that? I have the musical ability of a two year old. For a while, my little space on the blogosphere will be a retelling of my weekly adventure in steel string, acoustic guitaring. Is that even a word? Maybe I'll make up a few along the way. Anyway...
I'm taking lessons at
My instructor is a sweetheart of a guy named Jeff. He's all of 32, but has been playing for 20 years. Don't I feel like a retard. I've wanted to do this since I was sixteen years old. I can't remember when music wasn't a part of my life. I've always listened and enjoyed music at a much deeper level than most of my friends. Music speaks to me, well crafted music that is.
I walk in and as feared, the first question is, "What do you know about music?" Well I like it, I have over 300 CDs in my collection and it is hugely varied. So I told him, think of me as a two year old with a well developed brain.
And the second question, "What kind of music do you like?" Talk about impossible to define. My all time most favorite ever band...The Monkees...Have you listen the depth of feeling conveyed in "Last Train to Clarksville"? There are days I sing, "Here we come, walkin' down the street, get the funniest looks from everyone we meet. Hey, hey we're the Monkees and people say we monkey around. We're too busy singing, to put anybody down." It's a song about relationship building, looking past prejudices and pre-conceived notion. It's about living life to its fullest potential in spite of difficult odds.
HAHA!! Had you going for a moment. My favorite band is U2. I love Celtic music. I like metal, rock, pop, country, Christian, oldies, flamenco, classical guitar....see it's endless.
A brief recap of my first lesson: finger on the 5th fret and work the scale. Index finger - 5th fret. Middle finger - 6th, Ring - 7th, pinkie - 8th. From high E to low E. I was to practice that until Week 2.
I did...I was going to commit to 30 minutes a day, with Sunday off. In a word...stupid. I practiced so hard on Thursday that I actually had to ice down my fingertip. Mike said I was a wuss, and while he was joking, I felt like one. Then again, my fingers have never pressed steel strings against the fretboard before.
While I think I suck and I'm sure somewhere in the back of his mind, Jeff is wondering why he got stuck with me, I'm keeping in mind it's only been a week.
And I can't stop whining about having to cut off my nails. Ah, what we must sacrifice for the sake of art.