Custom Search
|
|
The Guitar
Even though both Danielle and I can carry a tune in a pinch, it would take a bit of a charitable leap to describe either one of us as singers. And we do enjoy dancing, though it would also be a stretch to label us as dancers... All this is to say that Cai came up with the whole "sing and dance" thing on his own, and it persists. About a year and a half ago he amended his original idea to "play guitar and sing and dance on stage." Ah my son, the complete rock star... We've been offering to provide Cai with dance lessons ever since he first mentioned his plans. His pat response is "I already know how to dance," and as he leaps around the living room or shakes it across any floor in any room where music is playing, it's tough to say that he doesn't have a point. His style, which appears to be an energetic mixture of tap, hip-hop and acrobatics with a healthy measure of Irish Step of the "Lord of the Dance" variety tossed in, is unorthodox to say the least. It sure is original... Not long after the "play guitar" announcement, Danielle checked in with the folks at the local guitar shop and asked their advice on getting a kid started. "Get a decent kid-sized nylon-string and let him bang on it until he decides it's something he'll really enjoy," they suggested. "Then you can start with lessons..." One day a month or two before his eighth birthday, Cai and I were wandering around in town. We stopped in front of Saratoga Guitar; (corner of Broadway and Caroline St., just in case you visit) ogled the variety of six-string wonders dangling in the window, and went in. At this juncture, Dear Reader, I would be remiss were I not to fill you in on some important historical detail. You see a short while back - 'round about three decades ago, though no one's really counting - I bought a guitar. My buddy Richard and I took a bus into Manhattan, walked into Sam Ash Music, and I plunked down $150 for a fine looking Japanese acoustic. I took lessons for several months, and then Richard and I headed off on a cross-country journey. One small car, two guys, two guitars, and a solid commitment to see the Pacific Ocean and return to New Jersey in 30 days... Sometime just before Richard and I left on our journey we bought electric guitars: He a Fender Stratocaster, me a used Gibson Marauder with a buzzing sixth string. We left them home while we traveled. Several years later I sold the Gibson to an ex-girlfriend for $50 less than I paid for it. The acoustic went with me whenever I moved. Not that I played it, mind you. I just moved it along with my books, blankets and skis... Back to the real story... Cai and I stepped into the guitar shop and poked around a bit. After shuttling up and down the one-aisle store a couple times, one of the employees asked if we would like some help. "Sure. My son would like a guitar, and we're checking out what you have for kids who are just starting out." He gave me the same story he or one of his comrades had given Danielle. I asked Cai to sit on a low stool, and then asked the fellow helping us to show us one or two different instruments. "Here Cai. Hold this and see what it's like." "No..." "If we're going to get you a guitar, I'd like you to at least hold it and see what it feels like." Silence. Eyes turned toward the floor. No response. I thanked the fellow who had offered to help us, and off we went. Several months later we tried again. Cai was happy to hold the guitar, even to strum it once or twice. As we were checking out, I asked Cai if he thought it would be fun if I pulled out my guitar so we could play together. "Sure!" It had been over twenty years since I had played with any sort of regularity, and I knew that back home in my closet, a very old set of strings were rusting away quietly in the dark. "Um... I think I need some new strings," I said rather sheepishly. "What kind would you like?" "Something for someone who hasn't played in a couple of decades..." "Silk and Steel... They shouldn't hurt too much." "Sounds good. How 'bout one of those tuning things..?" "Digital?" "Um... Let's not go nuts," I said, "how about a pitch pipe?" He looked at me in that quizzical way people who really know what they're doing look at people who clearly don't, handed me a list of local music teachers, and asked, "Anything else I can do for you?" Guitar, strings, tuning pipe, and three fresh picks in hand, we returned home. Keep in mind that the last time I had spent much time playing anything except the stereo was ages ago. For the first few days, Cai and I banged around together, and it was good fun! Within a week or two I became a man possessed. I started trawling the net for chord diagrams, tabulations of favorite Grateful Dead songs, anything I could print. Then I started in on heavier stuff - Beatles, Zombies, John Hiatt. It took me two weeks with "Puff the Magic Dragon" before I could get through "Dragons live forever, but not so little boys" without sobbing... After a rather nasty ski injury left my right upper thigh too bruised to handle the pressure of the guitar, I unearthed my old strap so I could stand up to play. I've been wearing the blasted thing ever since. I went back to the guitar store, bought the digital tuner, then went around the corner to the music shop and purchased a book of eight zillion chords. I began to question my sanity with respect to decisions made way back when - after all, who in their right mind would ever sell an electric guitar? My family has begun to wonder what has become of me. I'd like to say it's getting better... And it is. Hello. My name is Ken, and I can now pick out tunes with less trouble than ever before. I remember that Every Grand Beluga Dines on Fish and Fierce Albatrosses Control the Earth. I'm beginning to have thoughts about really learning to read music... I think this is my version of the mid-life crisis. Only in this dream I get to keep my family and the Camry. There is, however, something in the trunk... I asked Cai how he felt about me and my recent "interest." "Good," he said. "You can be a one-man band and get us backstage tickets!" Not exactly what I had in mind, though I do like the way he thinks. Once my father retired from the consulting practice he took on after leaving his corporate job, he picked up the violin again. It had been a long hiatus. He started taking lessons, playing with the local college orchestra and another local string group, even dabbled with building a violin. He's still playing and enjoying making music, so I figure there is some genetic programming at work here. If nothing else, it gives me some sort of excuse... not that I need one. Of course, I want an electric guitar - something along the lines of a Gibson SG, a Fender Telecaster or a PRS SE Custom - and an amplifier to go with it. At this moment I'm a hack. In my dreams I'm a loud hack. One challenge I like to give my clients is to leave no creative stone unturned and to act on any creative urge that comes up, regardless of how irrational it may seem in the moment - just to see what happens... There's a guitar show at the local convention center in two weeks. Stay tuned. Article Directory: http://www.articledashboard.com Ken Mossman PCC, CPCC, is a business and personal coach who specializes working with fathers and “creative cliff-jumpers,” men and women with creative dreams that just won’t quit. Ken's coaching style is lively, fun, challenging, full of humor and shamelessly irreverent. To contact Ken or learn more, visit: www.cirruscoaching.com |
|