Fret Not

November 3, 2019

Was at an orchestra concert the other day watching my favorite cellist and noticed that…

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Thirteen

October 24, 2019

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June 25, 2018

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April 15, 2018

Went to Supercuts on Saturday: to the usual one over on 18th and Wilshire.  All…

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Learning to fly

March 18, 2018

  Took flight again today at Pranayama Breathe Class on a Sunday afternoon. I visited…

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Squeak!

February 24, 2018

Squeak. Step. Squeak. Step. Squeak. Pause. Stop. Pause. Step. Squeak. Humph… My favorite shoes are…

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#leftearrightear

February 14, 2018

  FADE IN. EXT: DAD comes into focus, a big guy, burley, mid-thirties, Oklahoma t-shirt,…

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Turn the tables

August 31, 2017

I have a coach that helps me navigate the training regime for all of these…

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Owling

July 24, 2017

Went owling with Vince the other night. We have a big tree in the backyard…

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Coco and Adele

July 23, 2017

One afternoon in the Marais (how cool is that for an opening line?) Teri and…

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Comrades in arms…

July 10, 2017

And legs. And mind, body and spirit. Just whisper “Kowies, Fields, Bothas, Inchanga or Polly…

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Wump-Wump-Wump

July 6, 2017

Thursday afternoon Dad via text: “send a pic people here want to see” Dad’s internal…

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La Decima

July 5, 2017

He’s a god, a modern day god, like Zeus with a tennis racket. And we…

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And he lives in Nashville. Went there recently to reconnect and discovered a whole new world of possibilities. My cousin Bruce started playing later in life, well into career and family. Neck deep in “no bandwidth: too much to do, how can I possibly set aside :30 minutes a day to play?” territory. And yet he committed. Now ten years on he can play, able to take requests from the crowd and hold the room with his guitar for the family sing-along (one of the highlights of the weekend btw).

I’m inspired. I’ve always wanted to play guitar. In fact when people ask me what I would do in another life I always come back with “lead singer in a rock and roll band.” When I was a kid I tried the recorder, drums, trumpet, piano and the guitar a number of times. Once my junior high school music teacher, Mr. Johnson, bribed me to try the oboe.   Seriously? The oboe? The thing has reeds. In the end I sang second tenor in a choir, a pretty intense choir, but a choir non-the-less. Notably not the lead singer in a rock and roll band.

So now, a few weeks post Music City, “I have blisters on my fingers” (Beatles, Helter Skelter) and music running through my veins. I set up a little area with a stool and music stand: my version of a Nashville music room. Bought new guitar strings and one of those cool guitar stands that keeps my guitar on display at all times. Every time I walk by she calls me to come out to play. Yes, to me the guitar takes on the feminine, nameless thus far, but quickly becoming a constant companion. Desire runs deep.

I can play three cords, strum on beat and sing a butchered version of Ripple all thanks to the New York Guitar School’s Intro book. Turns out you only need a few chords and a whole world of song opens up to you. Its nothing fancy, but its enough to get by, enough to make me smile, maybe enough to someday play along in a backyard sing-along. Mostly it’s just enough to stoke the dreams of a soon to be lead singer in a rock in roll band.

Thanks Bruce, now, I gotta go, time to grab my six string and head off to Terrapin Station.

Rock…onward->

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One Response to My cousin has a music room

  1. Chris Nappi says:

    Glad to hear (read) this. And I believe you’re right about the stand. In fact, I actually think it’s the most important part. It’s hard to hear the instrument calling to you through all that fake fur in the case.

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