It’s a busy bloggy night tonight, ain’t it? Blame the Moleskine.
Anyway, time for an update on the guitar. Back in July Michael was given a surprise gift of a Squier Stratocaster by his parents (one of which can be found here). At the time I envisaged lots of fun ‘men with guitars’-type yumminess and thought that the guitar would be a fun thing to see in action, but not something I’d take to myself.
The mighty axe, in the hands of a far more capable (and damn sexy) player.
But then I decided to have a go at ‘spanking the plank’ myself, bought a copy of "The Complete Guitar Player – Book 1" and got cracking. By the end of the first week, I’d got Mull of Kintyre down to a fine, if overly long, 10-minute, 3-second between each chord change masterpiece. Chuffed with my achievement, I decided to sign up for guitar lessons. I had one lesson, then my instructor was sadly, tragically, abducted by aliens. Or maybe he played one too many power chords and exploded. Or maybe he read this and, quite rightly, ran for his life. Whatever, I had one lesson and the guy didn’t bother to call me back with dates for any more. Never mind. I decided to plod on regardless.
Bought some more books from Amazon, including one that offers ‘Private Lessons with Kirk Hammett’. Well, you know me – anything featuring the words ‘private’ and ‘Kirk Hammett’ and I’m all over it. I haven’t so much read it yet, more stared agog and thought ‘WTF?’. So that will go away until such time when it doesn’t appear to be utter gobbledegook. I wonder whether I’ll still want to learn Thrash Metal songs when I’m 75.
My repertoire now extends to plodding, fumbling, beginner-speed renditions of Summer of 69, Helter Skelter, Hey Jude and The Times They Are A-Changin’. Mull of Kintyre is coming on a treat, got it down to almost 6 minutes now. It’s frustrating at times, especially when the strat is out of tune and sounding like an injured cat. But I’m plodding on, and hope to have mastered enough to provide a bit of tuneful entertainment over the festive season.