No, it isn’t a post about either three of those topics. Nor about sneakers, or nursing. Is it possible for me to write about a different subject? My fascination (some might call it more of an “addiction”) with endurance sports has been interrupted by the new addition to the household– a guitar.
I was surfing the internet yesterday–a daily occurance in my life when I am not working, or training, and an add for guitars popped up. I found myself for the first time looking at a non-athletics related site. As I looked at the different pictures of fine intstruments, I felt a sudden longing to play the guitar again. It’s been a couple years since I’ve plucked the bronze strings of the guitar, and I’ve mentioned my first guitar briefly before here. My lust for the musical instrument lead me to search for music stores in the area, which, thankfully, there are plenty of, especially in the Woodstock area. Who would have thought there is a plethora of music shops close to a music festival mecca?
When I entered the small music shop, I could not help but smile when I saw a couple of people strumming away in the corner, trying out some tunes on guitars. Man, it’s been too long since I’ve played. The selection was not massive, but I was not planning on purchasing Gibson’s 1942 J-45 Legand. No no, I was on a mission to find a basic, smooth, beautiful six stringed instrument. After a couple of minutes gazing up at the guitars hanging, my eyes fell upon a Ibanez. And not just a plain Ibanez. A mahogany/deep red Ibanez. I was never a big fan on colored acoustic guitars in the past, but times have changed, and I’ve changed.
Filled with anticipation and excitement to play with my new toy, I found myself cross legged in the middle of my kitchen floor trying to open the dusty chest of musical knowledge that I had stored somewhere in my brain. To my pleasant surprise, I remembered how to play Blackbird, one the first songs I ever learned how to play. Well, technically, I think the first song I learned was Eagle Eye Cherry’s “Save Tonight”–the only reason I remember that is because I had a teenage crush on the person teaching me how to play the guitar at the time. Wow, was that a long time ago.
After spending too much time playing into the wee hours of the morning, serenading my sleeping cat, and fingertips that were incredibly raw and sore, I managed to learn how to play Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours,” and successfully find the key to unlock that dusty musical chest I had forgotten about.
Should my bike be jealous?
A Rendezvous with Sneakers 