I did not know how to play guitar. It was one of those things, like falling in love, that some people just seemed to know and others didn’t. And if you’re one of those people who don’t, you tell your friends you’re really going to learn it this time and they say, hey good for you. But the whim is never enough and you call it quits when you hear yourself plucking like an idiot.
It is, despite this, one of those things you tell people you play at parties or social gatherings. “Dude, I forgot you play!” You don’t play. I do not know how to play guitar when they hand it to me. I can position it on my knee- this is the easy part. Before one strums everyone could be Hendrix. “Play Hey Jude!” Someone will always want to hear Hey Jude. Someone will also want to hear a song they think you do not know. They almost ask you- but they put their cups into their open mouths.
“I don’t know Hey Jude,” I say, and it’s the honest truth.
“Play something we’ll all know,” your friend will say. They’re hoping you play their favorite song.
I take a sip of my drink. Everyone thinks I’m loosening up for the performance.
“No I don’t think I feel like playing,” I say. Everyone goes nuts. “Just play,” someone annoyed says. You have options now. You can cop out to not knowing and everyone will glare. You can play something you’ve made up on the spot and pray your company is comprised of exceptionally good-looking yet hard of hearing senior citizens. These are all the choices that are socially viable. Anything else and they will know you are a liar.
I start out playing slowly, a note here and there. Then I position my fingers in total mocking position of a guitarist and strum down. It’s good enough to be a chord. I do this in rotation- on the spot- several of them sound good enough. I pray on that. That mediocrity saves me. I stop.
“That was not bad,” says some girl. She knows nothing of guitar but she has just unintentionally saved me. She takes a sip of her drink and she must be drunk. Others grumble agreements. I take off the guitar and someone else picks it up. If you have ever been saved like this- by blind chance- you will believe in fate, if only temporarily.
Someone else picks up the guitar and starts to play. I walk to the kitchen with relief in my luck. I start to make a congratulatory drink.
“You’ve never played guitar before have you,” someone asks. I immediately turn expecting the world to be behind me, I’m ready to surrender to the cat and mouse game of the universe.
“I didn’t mean it like that, shit,” he says, “sorry.”
“I suck at it I know,” I say.
“You just don’t play,” he says. “You have no idea what you could do.”
“Neither do you,” I say, smirking.
“You’re right I don’t,” he says, smirking.
It is, despite this, one of those things you tell people you play at parties or social gatherings. “Dude, I forgot you play!” You don’t play. I do not know how to play guitar when they hand it to me. I can position it on my knee- this is the easy part. Before one strums everyone could be Hendrix. “Play Hey Jude!” Someone will always want to hear Hey Jude. Someone will also want to hear a song they think you do not know. They almost ask you- but they put their cups into their open mouths.
“I don’t know Hey Jude,” I say, and it’s the honest truth.
“Play something we’ll all know,” your friend will say. They’re hoping you play their favorite song.
I take a sip of my drink. Everyone thinks I’m loosening up for the performance.
“No I don’t think I feel like playing,” I say. Everyone goes nuts. “Just play,” someone annoyed says. You have options now. You can cop out to not knowing and everyone will glare. You can play something you’ve made up on the spot and pray your company is comprised of exceptionally good-looking yet hard of hearing senior citizens. These are all the choices that are socially viable. Anything else and they will know you are a liar.
I start out playing slowly, a note here and there. Then I position my fingers in total mocking position of a guitarist and strum down. It’s good enough to be a chord. I do this in rotation- on the spot- several of them sound good enough. I pray on that. That mediocrity saves me. I stop.
“That was not bad,” says some girl. She knows nothing of guitar but she has just unintentionally saved me. She takes a sip of her drink and she must be drunk. Others grumble agreements. I take off the guitar and someone else picks it up. If you have ever been saved like this- by blind chance- you will believe in fate, if only temporarily.
Someone else picks up the guitar and starts to play. I walk to the kitchen with relief in my luck. I start to make a congratulatory drink.
“You’ve never played guitar before have you,” someone asks. I immediately turn expecting the world to be behind me, I’m ready to surrender to the cat and mouse game of the universe.
“I didn’t mean it like that, shit,” he says, “sorry.”
“I suck at it I know,” I say.
“You just don’t play,” he says. “You have no idea what you could do.”
“Neither do you,” I say, smirking.
“You’re right I don’t,” he says, smirking.
