It Might Get Loud


I went to get groceries a little while ago and came home with a guitar.

It is acoustic, used and now mine. Slightly battered. Covered in stickers. Huge battle scar on the back.

I liked it immediately. This thing has been places and I want to be part of its history. I hope it’s not haunted.

Me? I have absolutely no musical inclinations. I can’t even sing or dance but is this a reason NOT¬†to get a used guitar with a past as shady as mine?

I think not.

I am now in a whole new category of cool. I can lug this thing anywhere, and someone will know how to play it.

I ran into a very well-dressed, rather well-known local musician at my doctor’s the other day. He had his guitar with him. He told me he was on his way to an audition. I wasted no time whatsoever in letting him know I had a guitar too.

“Can you play it?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Well then, that’s a shame.” He immediately lost interest. Actually he got up and left the room, taking his beloved guitar with him. Well, okay, he was called in by the doctor, but I took it personally. I didn’t even get an autograph…

“I’m going to take lessons.” I told his fast disappearing backside.

No reply.

NOTE TO SELF: Do not engage well-dressed, well-known, local musicians in conversations about guitars unless I can actually play one. Lesson learned.

Even if owning a guitar isn’t on my bucket list, at least I have it. One less thing to worry about. And I’m going to look so much more sophisticated and worldly when I take it with me on my daily adventures.

Maybe I’ll take it to Starbucks…

Maybe I’ll wear my pajamas…

That should get the party started.

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