Helter Skelter
My fingers are reminding me of Ringo's famous quote off of the White Album: "I got blisters on my fingers!"
They aren't nearly that bad, but they're definitely showing some signs of use. I spent a lot of time practicing guitar this weekend. I got some more advice and examples from the bossman (bandleader) on the previous Tuesday, plus there's this wicked beat up Esquire (precursor to the Telecaster) on eBay right now. I want that Esquire, but it's super pricey, as in selling semi-vital-organs pricey. If I sold something really valuable, yeah, I could buy it. It's technically doable.
Thing is, once I got it, I'd still be as good as I am, which is not very good. I'd have a guitar that was better than me! That's just not very cool. We've all seen the guy strut into the local bar on jam night with the the enough gear to require a personal roadie, and then he plugs in, fires up - and the Suck Knob is clearly pegged at 11.
I thought, "If I want something like that, I need to work to make it worth it," and so I've been practicing. I at least have to be able to capably handle some basic duties in an absolutely rock-solid fashion before I go thinking about wasting money on more gear. Besides that, the guitar I have now is really nice, and it plays well. Why do I wanna screw that up?
And so it was Practice Time. I worked on it on Saturday in between naps and more gigs. Then on Saturday night at the gig I got some more advice and worked on it some more in between sets. Then Sunday rolled around, and after finally getting a bunch of crap out of the way I got down to business yet again. I don't know how long I spent on it, but it was several hours. I just kept going over what I knew over, and over, and over, and over again. Sometimes I couldn't tell that it was doing anything at all, but I know if I keep at this it will improve, that one day it'll just sound like I magically got better, and I won't be able to remember when or how I went from being marginal and shaky to decent.
I'm happy to say that I played enough yesterday that my fingers started to get sore. Fortunately, I did not bruise them, as then I'd have to wait for them to heal up to practice more. However, the calluses are going fairly well, and I actually have lines permanently pressed into my fingertips from fretting the strings. This is a good thing. This means I've been doing real work instead of sitting around and dreaming about it, or watching old Zeppelin/Springsteen/T-birds videos and going, "Wow, that would be cool to be able to do that." I may never *be* able to do that, but I will at least be able to pick up a guitar and not feel completely lost, strum some chords, fake it through a few songs, back up a lead guy.
Aside from that bit of awesome, I've been trying to keep ahead of regular crap. I got a little sculpture work done on Saturday, and I'm getting closer to finishing that one up. My brother has the Chevelle torn apart again, and I'm trying to set some boundaries and let him have at that by himself rather than feeling like I have to be out there helping him every minute of the day. That's his project currently, and I have other things I need to tend to.
Speaking of, I should probably get that mail off the couch, and read that book I need to finish, and clean up the bathroom a little, and finish that laundry, and...
They aren't nearly that bad, but they're definitely showing some signs of use. I spent a lot of time practicing guitar this weekend. I got some more advice and examples from the bossman (bandleader) on the previous Tuesday, plus there's this wicked beat up Esquire (precursor to the Telecaster) on eBay right now. I want that Esquire, but it's super pricey, as in selling semi-vital-organs pricey. If I sold something really valuable, yeah, I could buy it. It's technically doable.
Thing is, once I got it, I'd still be as good as I am, which is not very good. I'd have a guitar that was better than me! That's just not very cool. We've all seen the guy strut into the local bar on jam night with the the enough gear to require a personal roadie, and then he plugs in, fires up - and the Suck Knob is clearly pegged at 11.
I thought, "If I want something like that, I need to work to make it worth it," and so I've been practicing. I at least have to be able to capably handle some basic duties in an absolutely rock-solid fashion before I go thinking about wasting money on more gear. Besides that, the guitar I have now is really nice, and it plays well. Why do I wanna screw that up?
And so it was Practice Time. I worked on it on Saturday in between naps and more gigs. Then on Saturday night at the gig I got some more advice and worked on it some more in between sets. Then Sunday rolled around, and after finally getting a bunch of crap out of the way I got down to business yet again. I don't know how long I spent on it, but it was several hours. I just kept going over what I knew over, and over, and over, and over again. Sometimes I couldn't tell that it was doing anything at all, but I know if I keep at this it will improve, that one day it'll just sound like I magically got better, and I won't be able to remember when or how I went from being marginal and shaky to decent.
I'm happy to say that I played enough yesterday that my fingers started to get sore. Fortunately, I did not bruise them, as then I'd have to wait for them to heal up to practice more. However, the calluses are going fairly well, and I actually have lines permanently pressed into my fingertips from fretting the strings. This is a good thing. This means I've been doing real work instead of sitting around and dreaming about it, or watching old Zeppelin/Springsteen/T-birds videos and going, "Wow, that would be cool to be able to do that." I may never *be* able to do that, but I will at least be able to pick up a guitar and not feel completely lost, strum some chords, fake it through a few songs, back up a lead guy.
Aside from that bit of awesome, I've been trying to keep ahead of regular crap. I got a little sculpture work done on Saturday, and I'm getting closer to finishing that one up. My brother has the Chevelle torn apart again, and I'm trying to set some boundaries and let him have at that by himself rather than feeling like I have to be out there helping him every minute of the day. That's his project currently, and I have other things I need to tend to.
Speaking of, I should probably get that mail off the couch, and read that book I need to finish, and clean up the bathroom a little, and finish that laundry, and...