Amish Guitar

Last Thursday my family and I attended daughter #1's spring concert. It's always been an interesting concert that involves the bands of all three age levels: elementary, junior high and high school. Some years the three bands even play the same piece (but not this year). But this isn't a post about her wonderful performance. That's something I'll keep to myself and relish with joy.

Well, you all know how I feel about returning to my high school for musical events (for you newcomers, check out this post). Thursday was no different. I wanted to be anywhere but there, except for the fact that I knew it was important to my daughter. I was a bundle of nerves.

It turned out to be an incredibly cathartic experience. The high school concert band was simply astonishing. They performed a piece called Appalachian Morning (found here, but not by my Alma Mater[and not nearly the same as hearing it live]).

I was simply blown away. I closed my eyes without knowing it and was moved to tears. When it was over, I was truly surprised to find myself in an auditorium surrounded by people.

I have forgotten just about every good thing I had while involved in high school music. I have resisted exploring those memories and remembering those friends. I have focused so much of my high school memories on the unpleasant, the conflict, the pigeonholing, the self imposed labels.

Yet, in one evening, I was transported back twenty years and found myself in familiar, happy surroundings.

It has been a wonderful three years rediscovering music with the guitar. But, if I'm really honest, the French Horn will always be my first love, the instrument that first comes to mind when I think of my musicianship. I can't help it. I am a horn player first, despite the fact I haven't picked the dang thing up in over ten years.

Each band present their annual awards that evening. I was so happy for these young people. It was the Senior students' last performance and, as they came forward to be praised by their director, I felt envy. A quiet, happy envy, because I could still see in those seven kids the young man I had been.

The things I have learned that are obvious in retrospect:

10. Learning guitar is a journey, not a means to an end. There is a guy that plays in our praise team at church that can just to marvelous things with his guitar. I can't even describe it. He makes the instrument sing, making it another voice in the ensemble rather than just an accompanying sound and rhythm. His skill just amazes and humbles me. And yet, to hear him talk of musicians he's met, I realize that he feels like he's in the same boat as me. He talks of being amazed and humbled by the abilities of others and he is far from being done in his quest in learning more.

9. Guitarists share their knowledge. Unlike other hobbies, and perhaps other musicians, I've yet to meet a guitarist who isn't willing to take a moment and answer the question "how did you do that?" I may not always understand what they've shown me, but I always appreciate it when friends and strangers alike take their time.

8. Everybody has problems with the F chord when beginning. I remember when I first read about barre chords and realized that, if I just learn how to do one, then I can move it up and down the neck and have dozens of chords at my disposal. Well, as we all know, it isn't as simple as all that. It's true that those dozen of chords are available, but it won't come as easily as all that. I've since learned of several guitarists, including professionals, that never learned barre shapes and more than a few who use alternative tunings to avoid the dreaded F. This is a learning curve for everybody.

7. Dings are not the end of the world. Like most guitarists, I would prefer a blemish free instrument. The first ding I got, I thought my world would end. I hadn't even caused it. It happened during the period of time I was laid up with my broken leg. My guitar really needed to have the strings changed and a friend offered to do so when he came by for a visit. When he retrieved my guitar, he didn't see that the case was unlatched. Bang! The drop left a ding about the size of a pencil eraser on the treble side of the upper bout. Doug was about beside himself and I was pretty put out as well. But, accidents happen and I immediately realized that it was bound to happen sooner or later. Now, whenever I see that ding, I don't think of the accident, I think of the day a friend came to visit.

6. The price of a guitar isn't what makes one happy. I have a plywood guitar. No, it isn't going to sound like a solid top and it certainly isn't going to sound like a custom build. But I really like the sound of my Art & Lutherie Folk. I can honestly say that I am not envious of the more expensive guitars my friends have nor do I have the dreaded GAS (Guitar Acquisition Syndrome). I'm happy with what I have and to go beyond would be, for me, a waste of my hard earned dollar. I don't begrudge any friend or any player that has a more expensive piece or think they've spent too much. Some play semi-professionally. Others have been blessed with the means to buy at a higher scale. I am very happy for them. Someday I would like a third guitar, probably a solid top dred, but I'm in no hurry.

5. Not everyone is going to be as enthused about guitars as I am. Even friends who play guitars. Even though I am approaching two years since I learned my first chord, it is still very new and exciting. Having had a musical life before guitar, I'm vaguely aware of what possibilities there are out there to still learn. It is easy for me to become a fanatic and want everyone to share in my excitement. However, not everyone is going to want to hear me play. Not everyone will want to endure listening to me noodle. And, more to the point, not all of my guitar playing friends will have the same level of interest that I have right now--perhaps it's old hat for them now, or perhaps it doesn't mean the same thing to them as it does to me. Learning to curb my enthusiasm and choose when and where to play goes a long way in earning respect as a player.

4. Get a good set up. A bad guitar can possibly be tweaked to be a decent guitar. A good guitar can definitely be adjusted to be a great guitar. A bad guitar forces the player to adjust to the instrument. A good set up adjusts the instrument to the player. But, I'm cautious of who I have work on my guitar. The shop were I purchased my guitar has a set up and repair service. I might trust them with simple repairs or nut replacement. But, when I asked about setting up the guitar to adjust the action, their response was to "crank down the truss rod." Well, I've read enough to know that's not the right way to do it. I have had great luck in taking my guitars into a local luthier. A little pricier and a little longer wait, but worth it.

3. Changing strings can be fun. It used to drive me nuts. Trying to keep the pins in, keeping the coils on the machine heads nice and neat. Bah! However, after learning some of the basic skills in doing so, I now look forward to changing strings. I look forward to it in an almost "Zen and the art of Guitar Maintenance" sort of way. It gives me a chance to, pardon the pun, unwind. I take the time to look over every inch of the instrument, wipe down all the fingerprints and clean out the frets. I've realized that it isn't a race to get it over and done with as soon as possible. It's a chance to forget everything else and focus in on one task. And the end result is guaranteed to be an improvement on what I started with.

2. Music is moving. Well duh. Still, I am constantly surprised at hearing my emotions in the chords, rhythms, syncopation, volume, tempo, harmonies and vibrations flowing forth from my guitar. All too often I'm not even consciously aware of what I'm feeling until I hear it. Playing has been, at times, a gift from God in getting me through some hard times. Other times it is just a joy to play because it just makes me happy.

1. Playing guitar is fun. It wasn't always. Looking through this list and I can remember times along the way I didn't know or believe or want to believe what I've just written. That guitar playing is fun is definitely one of them. At times, playing, or more to the point, learning to play, is nothing more than an exercise in pure frustration. Trying to hit that C chord cleanly after a G can still give me fits. But, with time and practice, I have come to the point that I know each time I pick up Jane or Patrick, I will make music. I may not achieve my goals for the time. I may not be able to push past the barriers I have in my skills. But, what I can do, is sufficient, if I let it be so.

Last night might be the last of 2008's fine fall evenings, lending its beauty and calm stillness to the perfect outdoor guitar noodling session. After a day of moving all the furniture from three rooms and pulling up carpet, it was a delight to sit on the front stoop and watch the sun set, playing the guitar. I was in heaven.

I must be going through a real nostalgic period with my music. I've already written about Roy Orbison's "Crying." Now, I've had another song from further back in my childhood, namely Joe Rasposo's "Sing" as made famous by The Carpenters, find its way into my head. Of course, my first introduction to the song, being a child of the 70s, was on Sesame Street. Such a seemingly simple song, it has always been a favorite. No matter where I am, if this song comes up on the radio or Muzak loudspeakers, vocal or just instrumental, I always pause to listen to it. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only 30 something to have a fondness for this tune.

Actually, I've been looking for a chord sheet for this song ever since I started playing guitar. Most arrangements have jazzy chords and in keys designed for playing on piano. My problem is that I was searching for The Carpenters as part of my keywords. Once I figured out the author was Mr. Raposo, it was easier to find a more beginner friendly version.

As familiar as the song is, I learned I didn't know it perfectly. It wasn't easy to figure out a strum pattern and it wasn't easy to really know where the chord changes are. I think I got pretty close last night. That said, it was still a wonderful evening for a childhood song.

And, as wonderful as Karen Carpenter's version is, this will always be the definitive performance for me:

I was not a normal child. I did not listen to a lot of popular music when I was a young teen. In fact, the radio in my room was always tuned to WYEZ, the local easy listening station. And by "easy listening" I mean elevator music. Partly because I liked being different, I suppose, but mostly because I couldn't understand damn thing the heavy metal/glam rockers of the 80's were singing about. The popular music of the day just tended to make my skin itch. By the time I was an older teen, say 17 or so, I did move on to the Beatles, some Steppenwolf, and U2. But I still didn't listen to the popular station. It's funny though, I recognize many of the hits from the time and they always make me nostalgic. I must have gone to a lot of dances.

Anyway, back to my abnormality. Yes, my music tastes ran to Henry Mancini, James Galway, and the like--think "Baby Elephant Walk" or "The Girl from Ipanema" or "Sounds of Silence". It was there that I first heard Simon and Garfunkel too; a big influence on my young musical tastes. And it was where I first heard Roy Orbison sing "Crying". I remember being chilled and goosebumply when I first heard this song. I was shocked when I saw Roy on tv--absolutely nothing like what I imagined.

I've been working on Roy Orbison's "Crying" lately. It has the most beautiful chord progression I've come across yet: D D+ G Gm. There is just something about the D, climbing to augmented D moving into G and resolving in a minor that just feels sooooo right. It is such a moving song, deceptively simple but packs a wallop. But it is so damn high! It is songs like this that occasionally make me sad I'm not a tenor (but not for very long...long live the power of Baritones).

I wish I could define this music from my childhood better. More than that, I wish I knew more of the artists that I listened to. Alas, WYEZ moved to an all talk format and was off the air six months later.

I need to get a record player and retrieve my LPs from storage. . .

Edit: FWIW, I guess the trade name for these stations was Beautiful Music