The Inexperienced Expert Plays Guitar

Imagine the musically challenged in a class filled with music. Imagine fumbling fingers, tongue poking out the side of my mouth, face cringing with concentration. Image all this, and you will have a good view of me in my first guitar class.

I love the guitar. The romantic inclination that can cover campfires and concert stages. I follow my memories back to a college apartment, feet crossed under myself, sitting snuggled on the couch while my latest crush plucked playfully on the strings that seemed to chime with infinite possibilities. I thought I had fallen in love with a handsome, quiet young man, but I realize, I think I just had fallen in love with his guitar. Since that day I have always kept a guitar tucked away somewhere in my house. I have tried in fruitless stretches of nostalgic whimsy to teach myself. I even successfully conquered "Ode to Joy", but no more.

You see, the problem with guitar is two fold. One is it takes practice, and two it hurts. It is easy to talk yourself out of guitar practice when throbbing fingers become more of a focus than halted music. This time I tricked my ever bemoaning fingertips, though. I signed up for an 8 week class. I figured that at the worst, I will have to practice for 8 weeks, thus developing the finger callouses, and taking away my excuse. Do you think it will work?

I have been at it two weeks. I have 6 chords that I must still pause to maneuver between, and I have nearly gotten down my first finger plucking song. Some of the people in the class have played before, and will casually trip along their strings like a brook across its rocky bottom. The ease and melodic nature of their half-hearted strumming makes me jealous, embarrassed, and even a bit inspired. It is a beginning class, but many of the participants have played before, but decided it had been so long they needed a refresher. Someday I hope to strum a chord with a smile on my face and a tune in my voice just like them. For now, though, I would settle for not looking constipated and like I have a claw for a hand.

Still, I am having fun, and I hope that by the end of the month I can play some fun kid songs with my girls. After all, they are the reason I finally did this after simply thinking about it for ten years. I want their lives to be filled with music and possibilities. When they pick up their little pink guitar, I want them to realize that someday they can make music with it. They can write a song and play along. There, I think I have their first line already!