the guitar.

I can't remember a time when I didn't wish I knew how to play the guitar.


My dad plays. Some of my favorite memories growing up are sitting on my parents bed with my dad while he played his guitar. I would sit across from him reading the music book upside down so I could turn the pages at the right time while he strummed away. My dad's guitar was off limits, we were not allowed to touch it as kids. About four years ago I finally asked my dad if I could borrow his guitar to try and learn. He had actually purchased a second guitar and let me pratice on that one. (So I still haven't touched "the" guitar if you think about it...just kidding!)


I had the hardest time stretchy my stubby sausage fingers across the fret board to hit some of the most basic chords. I also had a hard time making and keeping calluses. Those were the main two reason why I stopped trying. I gave up. And though I still wish I knew how to play the guitar, my wimpy fingers are okay with playing the smooth ivory keys of a piano.



What brought on this memory, you ask?
A Mayer blog.
Read on...






Calluses
February 23, 2007
I remember when I first started playing guitar, all the kids who played would compare calluses... You weren't much if you didn't have them, and the thicker the strings you used, the cooler you were. I never really stuck my head in the game all that much, though I was using pretty thick strings. I've taken it down a bit in my post-adolescent play-every-night situation... Lately I've been tearing my fingers up again because the crowds keep pushing me to play as hard as I possibly can. (Peer pressure...) I've been digging Derek Trucks a lot lately and try to forget my guitar has frets, but once I get off stage - I remember again. With every painful keystroke I make...