I! Live! Again!
Or whatever it was that Mum-Ra said. I have discovered, under sufficiently exigent circumstances, three items with which one may badly play an old, banged-up, six-stringed acoustic guitar. (Yes, I'm afraid it's true: all longhairs do play the guitar, if ineptly and infrequently. This is an undiscovered law of physics, and only my humility keeps me from penning a genre-shattering essay on the matter.) They are as follows:
(1) One's thumb, lest we overlook the obvious.
(2) Plastic paper clips found discarded at the local collegiate library.
(3) A penny, which actually sounds really tuff on metal strings, if conspicuously upping the volume to a point at which the neighbors might begin to notice how bad I suck, as well as imperiling the general unbrokenness of those same strings.
Why the sudden need to improvise? Thank you for asking. This not being a particularly large burg, and one still (for the moment) featuring a number of Mom & Pop local franchises, the stores don't tend to be open as late as I'd like or am used to. Rushing out in search of guitar picks at 9:48 PM doesn't yield much in terms of results, unless coming back to the house with a bag of egg noodles and a story advances the cause of music much.
Why don't I have a pick? Because the one that I inexplicably managed not to lose (mostly by not playing) for several years has broken in half and fallen into my guitar itself, where it is waging an attrition war with my patience regarding the liklihood of its ever being retrieved. Picks are inanimate and require no food, so I'm afraid it may have the upper hand in our struggle.
Why don't I just complete the long, tedious, plainly evil library assignment I'm putting off and stop playing inaccurately transcribed Bob Dylan songs that I've cribbed from the internet? Let's not be rude, now. I don't take you to task every time you waste a bit of time thinking that your duties might just, this once, execute themselves if you simply avoid them for long enough. Mind your own business, like Momma taught you.
I, for one, have to go play "The Times, they Are a Changin'," now. With a penny.
posted by JPS at 10/11/2005 01:14:00 AM
6 Comments:
Egg noodles?
You should have also picked up a container of cool whip. Not only would have had a tasty treat, you could cut up the container to make some picks as well.
Egg noodles? I've never tried to play the guitar with an egg noodle... Maybe al dente...
Adapt, Improvise and Overcome!
I'd love to listen to you butcher Dylan. My stepbrother used to play (probably much, much worse than you) and I was his one person audience. I love live music, especially when performed by amateurs. Keep plugging it away and maybe you'll hit it big one day.
You could be the next Jimmy Page!
I'll mail you some picks you bumb. I think I have 3 in my pocket right now.
I'll send the tortex ones that don't break.
Jeff
Jeff, you are a bum, and I am the bomb. Note the difference. Ohio University education, what can be expected?
EJ, I've also got your Gorilla amp and a 25 year old electric guitar in my apartment. Yours if you can make it up before I learn how to play it, which is probably never.
I tried learning the guitar once--I never had a pick either. Picks are for wusses. (Although I gave up learning because my fingers hurt, so maybe there's something to the pick idea after all. Or not. The fret fingers hurt worse.)
Anyway, I learned one Pixies song and that was about it. You should get a pick, lest you give up too and become a has-been wannabe like me.
Ho! I forgot to mention...totally sweet Thundercats reference. I tried to add the "Thundercats Ho!" movie to my netflix queue, and it's not available. They have "Cannonball Run II", but not Thundercats. Sheesh, what's wrong with the world today.
Post a Comment
<< Home