My First Guitar

My first guitar was a Silvertone H604 from Sears and Roebuck, probably the cheapest and most ubiquitous student guitar of the 1960's.  It was made by the Harmony Company of Chicago which sold approximately 350,000 instruments between 1964 and 1965. So much for craftsmanship and quality control.

Mine had a huge bow in the neck and, of course, there was no truss rod. The action was so high my guitar teacher had to file down the nut after telling my parents that might ruin the thing completely and that he couldn't be held responsible. It's a wonder my young fingers survived the stress. The case was canvas and after a few weeks the ends of the strings worked a hole right through it at the top. My mother repaired it with an iron-on patch. 

Despite all that, I wish I still had it. Sentimentality? Nostalgia? Yes, of course.  It was my very first real musical instrument and I loved it. You can see it here in this YouTube video where Daniel Guareschi plays one just like it.  I wish I had sounded this good back then when I played for hours in my room, but, sadly, I didn't.

Apparently, I was not the only person longing for the guitar of my youth. There were enough to convince the Silvertone Company to reissue the 604 in a new and improved form. 

You can read all about it here - http://www.silvertoneclassic.com/guitars/model-604604e/

Oh, yes, nostalgia and everything old is new again. Did you have a favorite something from your childhood that you wish you had kept?  If so, tell us about it in the comments.

I really miss that old guitar. It was even good enough for Audrey Hepburn in the film Moon River. 

Jammin' with my Ukulele

Ah, retirement! Once you get over feeling guilty, you have time to do a lot of things you just didn't get to while you were working. My plan was to focus on photography and I have (check out the new website  http://www.nearlylostphotography.com/ and the 365 Photo Challenge Facebook group https://www.facebook.com/365photochallenge2016/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel ). But a strange thing happened while I was scanning the local adult ed winter/spring course catalogue for photography related courses. There weren't any but just before I tossed it into the recycling bin, I saw "The Joy of Uke". Hmm. Of course, I registered and three days before the class started UPS delivered my new ukulele. As I held that little Chinese-made, stringed instrument tenderly in my hands, I saw my whole tortured music lesson history flash before my eyes. 

The saga began many decades ago when my aunt offered my mother my cousin Sandra's old clarinet. When asked if I would like to play, I saw a marching band uniform and fancy parades ahead and jumped at the chance. My dreams were shattered when the only available music teacher, our milkman, refused to take me on as a pupil because I was too young. No clarinet for me. But all was not lost since the possibility of becoming a piano virtuoso loomed the year we lived with my grandparents before our new house was available. My Aunt Mary's old piano was in the parlor and I was hooked once my grandfather taught me to play Chopsticks. Lessons were provided and I practiced diligently until, alas, we had to move into our new three bedroom 1960's ranch house in the suburbs. It had no parlor, so no piano for me. 

The next chapter in my musical memoir starts with the Beatles first appearance on the Ed Sullivan show. Yes, it was February 9th, 1964, and pop music was my new best friend. Who wouldn't want to play guitar like John, Paul, and George? I must have pestered my parents relentlessly because they bought me a little Silvertone from Sears and arranged for me to take lessons. Sadly, I can't remember my first guitar teacher's name but he had a 1950's wave in his hair and wore a fringed Grand Ole Opry style shirt. No mop top. No mod suit. No singing "All My Lovin'"or "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" for me. 

Still I was no quitter and for about three years I took my weekly lesson in a sad little room above a storefront downtown. My new music teacher introduced me to Mel Bay and his graded guitar method. Now I don't know if Mel Bay was ever in a band but my instructor played in a country western group. He must not have been a singer, though, because we never sang. Instead we worked our way through several grades of old Mel's system. I went from playing "The Merry Men" on the B string to cowboy songs, classical etudes and rousing ragtime tunes. I was a fancy little fingerpicker, but my dreams of rock stardom had faded away and died. Eventually, I just stopped going. 

Over the years since I have dabbled with guitars. I've taken a few more lessons and done a couple of workshops. There have been many starts and stops along the way. Nothing has ever really come together. Friends have occasionally invited me to jam with them, but that's always sounded so incredibly intimidating. I may have been able pick out "Valse Lente, op.33" but there's been no jamming for me. 

Fast forward to "The Joy of Uke" every Tuesday night in the brightly lit music room of the middle school. I sit with about 17 other eager students in front of our teacher who wears a silly Hawaiian shirt.  He calls us all musicians because we are tuning up, sight reading, and playing and singing together. The other night we worked through "I've Just Seen a Face" followed by "Hey, Good Lookin". Ironically, that's the Beatles meeting up with Hank Williams. Things are coming together nicely and I'm jammin'. 

My Favorite Song is None of Your Business

Yes, I had to go out of town recently for a work thing. No, I'm not going to complain about that. Well, at least not too much. But I will say that sometimes people just try too hard at events and group activities. And I'd like to add that ice breaker questions are lame, very lame indeed. Yeah, I hate them. Don't you?

In case you are an extremely lucky soul and have never had to endure an ice breaker question, here are a few examples:

• Where would you retire to if you could retire today?
• What would you say is your proudest moment?
• What is something no one here knows about you?
• If they made a movie of your life, what would it be about and which actor would you want to play you? 

When asked one of these I usually shudder, sigh, and get ready to, well, just make something up. The answers aren't all that important because no one is really listening, no one will remember what I say, and, hey, no one actually cares.

But at that recent out of town work thing I was asked the most intrusive ice breaker question ever. The presenter said, "Tell us what your favorite song is. What song would you say defines you as a person?" 

What?!? Seriously? Whoa,  I did not see that one coming. My first thought was "No. I won't tell you that." Why? Because that is way too personal and too intimate a question to be asked by a complete stranger under fluorescent lights in a meeting room before lunch.  That's information I would only be willing to share on my own terms and after much reflection. Around a campfire perhaps. Or maybe at a close friend's house by candlelight. While out in a canoe at twilight perchance. At any rate I'm sure that no matter the setting there would be adult beverages involved.

The moments passed. I half listened until it was my turn and then true to form I made something up. I tried to be clever and funny and I just made something up. Who cares anyway? Well, actually I care. I thought and thought about that question and I'm thinking about it still. Do I even have a favorite song? Is there a song that defines me? Gosh, I really love music and I have been listening and humming and singing along for more than half a century. What are my favorites?

Well, there's a Bob Dylan song entitled "Make You Feel My Love" from his 1997 Time Out of Mind album. You probably know it better as a popular Garth Brooks tune but you haven't lived until you hear Dylan rasp it.  Billy Joel covered it. Adele sang it at the Royal Albert Hall in September of 2011 as a tribute to the late Amy Winehouse.  I absolutely love the lyrics. Take a look at the first two verses:

When the rain is blowin' in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love.

It just gets better from there. I  love the melody as well and sometimes I play the song over and over when I'm driving in my car. This song has beauty and power and, yes, it's a favorite of mine.  I do not own the rights or I would link you to the YouTube performances. Of course, you can Google them and play them on your own. Listen if you've never heard the song. Listen again if you have and tell me how I could have possibly conveyed the magic of "Make You Feel My Love" in my short, awkward ice breaker response. Yeah, that's why I didn't.

Well, that certainly is enough of a say for today but another contender for favorite song is Judy Collins' version of "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" by Sandy Denny. A possible song that defines the youthful me in a goofy way is "Kind of A Drag by The Buckinghams from 1966. I'll be adding posts about those gems another day, so please subscribe to my blog and thanks for listening.

Gym Playlists Are Fun

Do other people obsess over their iPod workout playlists? I've spent hours on mine and am constantly trying to improve and update it. I purchased "Gangnam Syle" from the iTunes store way before Psy was even asked to make that Super Bowl dancing pistachio commercial. I want a mix of songs that will make me happy as well as get me going. Tempo and lyrics matter a lot and ranging through the decades keeps things interesting. So I work that playlist almost as much as I actually work out.

                                         

Sometimes I wonder if I'm alone in this, but I really need my tunes to get me through that early morning hour at the gym. It baffles me to see folks just watching TV or reading while on the machines. How can they step it up without "Cat Scratch Fever" or "Pump It" blasting through their ear buds? Is CNN that motivating? How about that New York Times magazine? I like to read as much as the next guy, but printed words generally don't make me move any faster.

Today happened to be my first day back at the gym after a two week hiatus.When I plugged that iPod in, I was eager to get back at it and make up for the time I lost. Of course, you have to love the Shuffle feature. Some of the songs that came up this morning really hit home. Remember "Hurt So Good" by John Cougar? Oh, wait, I mean John Cougar Mellencamp. Or was it just John Mellencamp? Well, no matter which name our singer-songwriter used then, it's from 1982. It has a great beat and it's easy to move to. But, it wasn't the best choice for me today because the chorus goes like this:

Hurt so good.

Come on, Baby, make it hurt so good.

Sometimes love don't feel like it should.

You make it hurt so good.

You lie, John. You lie. Yes, it hurts, but there's nothing good about that at the moment. Maybe I can't do this. Maybe Couch to 5K won't work for me. Oh, and maybe I ought not listen to a guy who smokes as much as I used to.

Should I mention that later on we got to "I Want Candy"? Probably not since that's one of the reasons I got so out of shape in the first place. But then during my cool down from right out of the 70's the Bee Gees sang "Stayin' Alive" to me.  Oh yeah, I am but just barely at the moment. 

Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother,

you're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.

Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin',

and we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive.

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive.

Life's goin' nowhere. Somebody help me.

Somebody help me, yeah.

Life's goin' nowhere. Somebody help me.

Somebody help me yeah. Stayin' alive.

Let's not go into detail about the shakin' part. I'm going somewhere because the gauge says 3.10 miles.  Stayin' alive is definitely hard work. Somebody help me get this playlist in order because I have to do this all over again tomorrow morning.