Amish Guitar

The Return of the Horn

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 20:14:00 +0000

Way back in the Summer of '08, I accompanied my daughter to the high school. She was "trying out" for band. I use sarcastic quotes because it wasn't really a tryout; it was "let's get you to try several different instruments to see what you like and, oops, you can't play that one because we already have too many kids taking that instrument up and here is a contract for instrument rental that will mean spending two to four times as much dough over the course of your school career than if your parents just ponied up and bought one for you at a local music store."

But, I digress.

She tried out the French Horn, my particular instrument of choice. I was kinda hoping she'd take to it since we already owned one. She didn't like it. She tried flute, clarinet and baritone. She had her heart set on clarinet, but was told that too many kids had already taken that (WTH?) so she had to do something else. Her second choice was alto sax, which fingers quite simlarly to the clarinet (so I'm told by the salesman with honest to god slick backed hair). And she's quite taken with it. It really has been a joy to see her progress from goose honking to quite mellow, almost sultry tones over the last year and a half. I don't think she'll be moving over to the clarinet section after all.

While I was there, I asked if I could try the Horn. It had been several years (8?) since I last played, but I was eager to see if I "still had it." I didn't. My embouchure was all over the place. Horns are quite harmonic in nature and it doesn't take much to slip between notes if your control isn't very good. I couldn't find my place along the scale and just made an embarrassment of myself.

I bring this all up because recently I happened to be in the room next door while my daughter practiced the melody to Beethoven's 9th. I also happened to know where my own Horn was, having just moved everything from the storage shed and unpacked it in the furnace room of our new house. And I thought to myself, what the hell?

I got out my Horn, made sure the valves still worked, then started playing from the other room in harmony with my daughter's sax. She came running out, with the biggest smile on her face. And I had one too. I still "had it." I just needed my own Horn to find it. My ombouchure was fried about 5 mins after playing with her, and I could tell that I'd never play Carnegie, but I played, damnit.

It just felt soooooo good to do it. Both for myself, and to make music with my daughter.

Old Letters

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 21:14:00 +0000

I came across a letter the other day. It was a letter I had written 20 years ago to a friend, but never sent it. Apparently my friend and I had shared sharp words. It's not unusual for me to write letters and then not send them. It is unusual for me to keep them, however. I found the letter in an old notebook I had kept from high school. And it's been bugging for a few days now.

I don't remember having a tiff with Susan in '89, but the tone of my words have really stirred something up. She had taken me to task, apparently, for not being happy. My reply was to say "what if I'm just a sad person?" This would have been 2 years before I ever knew from depression, three before I was diagnosed with depression myself.

And still the question remains, "what if I'm just a sad person?"

Granted, I'm no longer a 19 year old young man with more ideas about life than experience. Granted I have a better understanding about the causes and effects of this particular mental illness. It still a struggle, though, trying to work my way through emotions brought on by the brain chemistry and those brought on by situation.

Twenty years, or more, have gone by since I first began to ask those questions. Intellectually I know I am closer to being whole than I feel a large part of the time. I have learned to trust that the sadness I feel is not real, if only to keep it from taking me further down. Still, the struggle remains.

Depression is hard to explain to those who don't know, don't understand. Picking yourself up by your bootstraps can take you far while dealing with a depressive cycle. Sometimes, however, the straps break. Sometimes the cognitive practices you learn to get you through the cycle don't do the job. Sometimes you are simply at the mercy of overwhelming emotions.

I have nearly always experienced depression as an intense and singular sadness. Others describe angst, low energy, anger. For me, I always feel like I've just spent the last hour having a good cry...except that I haven't. And realizing now that my 19 year old self had already identified that actually gives me some hope. It's easy to feel, when I'm depressed, that nothing happened before the cycle and I can't imagine a future after the cycle is played out. Knowing that a young man was already figuring these things out 20 years ago actually gives me some encouragement to stay in the fight.

As for my friend, I'm sure we made up after that incident. We did have a spectacular fall out in college, though I seem to be the only one that remembers it. And, having taken pains to make amends, am enjoying a renewed friendship with her.

I just wonder what her answer would be, now, to the question I wanted to pose 20 years ago.

Gosh, I don't even know where to start

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 15:39:00 +0000

Let's see. Bought a house, moved, settling in, ran a 5K, still on a diet, still playing guitar, still playing in the church praise team.

The new house is really a delight to play in. The great room has a cathedral ceiling in it and the sound is just fantastic. The carpet deadens it a bit, but music sound so much better there than any other room we had in the old house.

So, how have ya'll been?

Summer Blah

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 23:36:00 +0000

Wow! Over a month and nothing new for AmishGuitar... And yet, I still have nothing on my mind to share with the semi-anonymous.

I think about this blog a lot and wonder when I'm going to be inspired to share again. And it's not like I haven't had quite a deal of adventure this summer to tell you about. I just never got around to tell you. And now that summer is nearly over, it seems a little awkward to bring up the minutia of my life when I can barely remember what was so exciting.

It has been such a weird summer anyway. Never really got hot until just a few days ago, and then not for long. It went by in a flash (I remember when, as a kid, summer lasted at least a year) and I don't feel like I got a lot accomplished. We didn't go anywhere as a family. We didn't really do much of anything except run around from one inconsequential thing to the next. It was pretty much a summer of work and cleaning house in case someone wanted to actually buy the damn thing.

Rats. I hoped that sitting down and typing the above drivel would have produced at least one idea. I guess it didn't.

How I spent my summer vacation by Amish Guitar

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 20:05:00 +0000

I was in Chicago for the annual American Library Association conference. As it turned out, my colleague who was to room with me at the hotel had to cancel at the last minute. So, I had a suite to myself. Quite naturally I took my guitar along and was able to play at the end of some long days. It was perfect.

I also had the pleasure of running alongside the shore of Lake Michigan. It was the first time I've ever run along side other runners and, yes, I was a little self conscious. Let's face it, for what I've lost, I'm still more than a little tubby. :^) So, running along, my face all red and my front side bouncing in rhythm with my feet was a little embarrassing. But I stuck it out and soon realized that I was in Chicago...NO ONE was paying attention to little ole me. Well, that's not quite true. I did get a few looks, but they were looks of encouragement, not disdain and I was grateful for that.

Coming home from the conference was another adventure as well, but quite pleasant. My friend Cal is a private pilot. He is working on getting certified for instrument flight rules and needs a certain amount of cross country hours to qualify. He'll often take me along for rides to get these flights. Well, when I first learned I was going to Chicago, I asked if he'd like to fly in and pick me up in his club's Cessna single prop plane. Yada yada yada and the next thing I know, I'm at Midway Airport(!) speeding down the runway less than a minute after a jumbo jet had left on an adjacent runway. That was too cool.

Guitars, running and plane rides. It was a perfect break from the high speed pace of the summer so far.

Proving Something

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 03:16:00 +0000

The clouds are stacked atop each other on the horizon giving breathtaking depth to the ever darkening blue sky behind them. And I am running towards them. I feel the gravel shift under foot and hear my own heavy breath. The steady thud thud of my gait helps me focus and yet lose focus. My mind slips away as I try to give shape to the myriad of images racing through at breakneck speed.

I am running. I have to.

Eighteen months ago I slipped on a patch of ice while taking the dog out for her morning duties. My ankle snapped with the loud crack of a stalk of celery bent in half not once, but three times. I lay on that ice in 8 degree cold waiting for help. Thankfully I had already dressed for work and had my cell. It was not long before the first responders arrived and covered me with a mound of blankets as well as their own firejackets to keep me from slipping into shock.

I was out of commission for nearly three months. There were times I would suddenly burst out in tears because I did not think I was strong enough to survive. I was imprisoned in my lazy boy—dependent on family and friends for basic needs. And the pain. And the fear. Would I walk with a limp? Would I walk with a cane? Would I heal? Would I be strong enough to endure the physical therapy?

And what of the heart problem they found before surgery to place my bones back into order with plates and screws?

A stiff breeze begins to build making the meadow around me swirl as if I were at sea. I quicken my pace a bit and shake out the tension in my shoulders. My legs are powerful, my knees are warm but flexible. I continue toward the horizon.

I was a grotesque 320 pounds, with a broken leg and an abnormal EKG.

I had reached bottom.

I promised myself that I would make it through somehow. And when I came out the other side, I promised, I would run again. I hadn't run since college, but dammit, I was going to run. I was going to lose the weight and regain my health. I was going to strengthen my heart and live to see my kids graduate from college and build families of their own.

I have to run. I have something to prove. I have to convince myself I was not the grotesque creature I saw in the mirror. And I am learning, slowly, painfully, that I am not.

There is nothing heroic in regaining what I had so willingly given away. So I forbid anyone reading this to leave comments of congratulations. Yes, I have removed 60 pounds of blubber from my frame and yes I am on track to run my first 5K this fall. But I am not worthy of congratulations. Not here. Not now. Not for this post.

The clouds have not drawn any nearer for my chasing after them, but still I run towards them.

I have to.

Do you understand? Please tell me you do.

What I did for Father's Day with My Dad

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 17:18:00 +0000

I thought I'd share a bit about what I did with my dad on Father's day and how near tragedy brought us closer together.

I had no idea what to do for dad on FD and decided to really go out of my comfort zone. Dad loves horses. He raises Belgian draft horses just for the fun of it. So I decided to take dad to a place where we could "rent-a-horse" and go for a ride.

Now, understand that I do not like horses. Getting up that high on something that can buck you off and kill you is not my idea of a good time. But dad was pretty excited when I suggested it so I knew I had painted myself into a corner.

We got to the place and paid our money. I just hoped the beast I got was a tame and gentle killer. Little did I know it wasn't my animal that I needed to worry about. We got going at good pace when it happened--dad slipped out of his saddle and got his foot caught in the stirrup. This, of course, spooked his horse and she just took off. I was helpless as I watched my 62 (63?) year old father being pulled along by this powerful beast. No matter how much I tried I could not get my horse to go any faster and catch up. I just chased after him and hoped for the best.

I had no idea what to do. My heart was in my throat and I started tearing up a bit. Dad was screaming for me to help him while flailing around to catch the saddle horn. I've never felt so helpless.

Luckily, the manager from the K-Mart came out for a smoke and saw us. He unplugged the machine and told us we were to old for this kind of crap and to "get the hell away from [his] store." I got dad's foot untangled and we went to Applebee's.

And that's how I spent Father's Day with my dad.

Guitar #26

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 02:12:00 +0000

When slipping the guitar off over your head because of the strap, don't stick the headstock into the ceiling fan. It leaves a ding and your children will hear you swear.

Last Night

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 16:19:00 +0000

last night

sleep won’t come and
the night gets long the
pillow warm and the changing
thought races seeing
faces running past hearing
harsh words and things to do
and things to remember and
slowly
the lane is turning
pale and the giant
turtle speaks “it depends
on what you seek,” so
i sit on the turtle’s
back as we fly across
the golden checkered hills
soaring above the cherry flavored
clouds diving down to crystal
plains flying farther than i should
and what was it she said i
need to get milk and take out
the trash because the car
payment is due so i turn
the pillow over again and
watch the clock click
half past
two

(C) K. Jay 2009

The End? Again?

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 22:41:00 +0000

Last Sunday I was playing the the praise team and I played an F#m chord. And I knew right then that I'd not be writing AmishGuitar much longer.

This silly little blog was my way of journaling the process of learning guitar--of becoming a guitar player. I've whined and moaned. I've shared breakthroughs and insights. I've measured my growth over the last couple of years. I've had a great time doing it too, though there was the "Dark Period" where I didn't write anything believing I had nothing to say.

But now, I find myself casually playing F#m barre chords without much thought and I wonder just how much I have in me to write about my growth.

Don't get me wrong...I have a lot to still learn about playing this odd box with 6 strings attached. I still have a lot of passion for making music and I still play for my own enjoyment and self induced therapy.

It's just that I've become satisfied with where I am. I feel like anything I'd be likely to write about, in the narrow focus of this blog, would be forced. It's been nearly a month since I've written anything because I've not thought of anything worthy of mentioning. There's been nothing new, nothing note worthy, no insights, no experiences to share. Just casual playing and toying around with fingerstyle.

My life, too, has become much different in the last two years. I've faced my unhealthy lifestyle and have begun a new journey of winning back my health. I've lost 55 pounds over the last year. I've started running this spring and have a goal of racing in a 5K before the summer ends. And my family's activities continue to be a priority over all else.

There are so many blogs in the Blog Graveyard where the authors simply stop writing. Many after one or two posts. I have put enough time and energy into AmishGuitar that I really don't want it to just fade away. I want to make a clear break.

And yet.

And yet there is still part of me that has fallen in love with the practice of blogging itself. There is so much more that I'd be interested in writing even if no one would be interested in reading. And, heaven help me, I just love the AmishGuitar name that I'd hate to stop using it in all the other places on the web where I've become known as such.

So I'm not sure what to do.

I will probably take a break for a spell as I ponder my next move. Perhaps I may just revamp AmishGuitar and expand its scope to a more all inclusive musing of my life. Time will tell.

Thanks for coming this far with me.

Beyond Basics Fingerstyle Guitar by Mark Hanson

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Sat, 16 May 2009 15:47:00 +0000

I've been working through this fingerstyle book I picked up at my local library. I never would have guessed just how simple and yet so complicated finger style could be. Even more than that, I never would have guessed how much I would enjoy learning the style.

The book seems to me to be very basic with easy to understand instruction. Yet the compositions the author created for the exercises are quite lovely. What's more, I've discovered chords beyond the first four frets. Always exciting.

Perhaps I'll need to figure out how to record one of the compositions and post it here.

The Horn Player

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Sun, 10 May 2009 02:17:00 +0000

Last Thursday my family and I attended daughter #1's spring concert. It's always been an interesting concert that involves the bands of all three age levels: elementary, junior high and high school. Some years the three bands even play the same piece (but not this year). But this isn't a post about her wonderful performance. That's something I'll keep to myself and relish with joy.

Well, you all know how I feel about returning to my high school for musical events (for you newcomers, check out this post). Thursday was no different. I wanted to be anywhere but there, except for the fact that I knew it was important to my daughter. I was a bundle of nerves.

It turned out to be an incredibly cathartic experience. The high school concert band was simply astonishing. They performed a piece called Appalachian Morning (found here, but not by my Alma Mater[and not nearly the same as hearing it live]).

I was simply blown away. I closed my eyes without knowing it and was moved to tears. When it was over, I was truly surprised to find myself in an auditorium surrounded by people.

I have forgotten just about every good thing I had while involved in high school music. I have resisted exploring those memories and remembering those friends. I have focused so much of my high school memories on the unpleasant, the conflict, the pigeonholing, the self imposed labels.

Yet, in one evening, I was transported back twenty years and found myself in familiar, happy surroundings.

It has been a wonderful three years rediscovering music with the guitar. But, if I'm really honest, the French Horn will always be my first love, the instrument that first comes to mind when I think of my musicianship. I can't help it. I am a horn player first, despite the fact I haven't picked the dang thing up in over ten years.

Each band present their annual awards that evening. I was so happy for these young people. It was the Senior students' last performance and, as they came forward to be praised by their director, I felt envy. A quiet, happy envy, because I could still see in those seven kids the young man I had been.

Guitar Lesson #25

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 03:12:00 +0000

There is still much to be said in the Key of G.

Eureka!

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 14:40:00 +0000

Why didn't anyone tell me that finger picking isn't nearly as complicated as it looks (though still complicated enough to do it right)?

First pentatonic scales and now finger picking. Amish Guitar is expanding his repertoire.

More to follow.

Guitar Lesson # 24

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 21:06:00 +0000

This week, learn something new. Pentatonic scales, a new finger picking pattern, a new chord higher up the neck. Whatever. Then write a poem about it. Neatness will count for 10% of your grade.

Pentatonic Blues

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 02:06:00 +0000

I've been back from the family reunion for almost a week now and I did want to take some time to write about it. My brother in law and I did finally find some time to jam. I'm the one with the acoustic, naturally. We were playing a diddy I call Caitlyn Starlight with is nothing more than a chord progression that I like to play:

G D C (x2)
G D Em Am
Em C D
Am7 Em
Am C D

Of course it means little with out the rhythm, but it's one that I've noticed people start bouncing their heads to when I play it. So, I started playing it and BIL started playing a melody. I was impressed. He told me that what he was playing was variations on the Gm pentatonic scale, which is the scale I mentioned in my previous post. It was quite cool.

I had never paid much attention to all the different modes of scales except for the Major and Minor scales of course. Turns out that a lot of melody, riffs and blues played on guitar is based on the minor pentatonic scales. BIL took the time to show me what he was doing and it seemed to me to be such a simple shape. I can't really explain how it works in written words, so I'm going to let the guys at rockongoodpeople explain it better:

Just a plug here for the guys at rockongoodpeople. They have over 350 videos on youtube for guitar instruction--mostly samples from their commercial products they self produce and sell at www.nextlevelguitar.com. I've not ever bought one of their pay products, but they share a wealth of information in their free videos. One reason I like their videos so much compared to other "instructional videos" on youtube is they teach while so many others just "show." Check 'em out.

Video embedded with permission from rockongoodpeople.

Do Re Mi

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 11:15:00 +0000

Let me be the latest to post yet another fantastic viral video.

Like I said when I posted this link to my FB page, these videos need to stop. First Ms. Boyle and now this?
Am I really this desperate to see something happy? Something good? Something so bright in this darkened world?

Yes, I am.

Here's another video of the same event but recorded on a home video. It's obviously recorded by someone who was privy to the dance. In some ways I find it more entertaining than the slick, multi camera video being spread around:

Tenor Rush

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 03:48:00 +0000

My friend Akelda the Gleeful over at Saints and Spinners uses the term Tenor Rush to describe that emotional reaction one has to music. That reaction where, despite whatever mood you are in, you become mush--your eyes well up with tears, your nose runs, your hair rises on your neck. It is the music that gives you goosepimples. I had never heard this term before and, being a good librarian and an English major, I've been trying to track down the term and get a authoritative definition or an example of the phrase being used in a publication. So far I've not been able to which leads me to believe it is not a common term.

No matter.

Today I ran across a link that a friend posted to her Facebook profile. I may not be able to define the tenor rush in words, but I experienced a powerful example when I followed the link.

Susan Boyle, a 47 year old contestant on Britain's Got Talent has quite recently made many people rethink their preconceived notions of people by their looks. Her common looks and accent belied an incredible singing voice. And, she chose to sing I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables--a song guaranteed to jerk a tear or two even when sung badly. Put that song, with her voice, and then realize that she is making a dream come true while she sings of a dream dying...well, it is more powerful than words can share. All I can say is that, hearing that song expressed in the way she performed and the surprise she dropped on the audience and the judges just made my day in a way that has carried me through the evening.

Here is the link to the youtube video (the embedding link has been disabled). Enjoy. I did.

Amish Electrified?

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 00:45:00 +0000

I have really been neglecting AmishGuitar lately. I've not had too much to say, to tell the truth. Real life has kind of taken over the last few months. I haven't really had any new experiences with the guit-fiddle to write about, or tried something new to report on. In fact, I've not had much time or reason to get the blasted thing out of it's case for much more than a quick noodle in what seems like forever.

Right now I'm writing from a family reunion to which I was able to bring my guitar. My brother in law had said he'd bring his out as well, but much to my surprise he brought an electric and a small amp. His is a Yamaha Pacifica and a Roland Micro Cube amp.

Now, I've always eschewed the electric and written about the simple pleasure of the acoustic. But. Me likey. I'm not a loud, in your face, heavy metal slasher type guy, so I've always said to myself that I'd have no interest in an electric, but I was very surprised to find out how much I enjoyed playing it. I still don't like a lot of distortion, but it was a pretty sweet sound that I was able to produce from that tiny amp. Don't think I'll be getting one anytime soon, but it's nice to know I am no longer afraid of the idea.

My BIL and I haven't had much time to play together. We brought our instruments only to learn that we're at very different levels of skill (he's been playing for, what, 15 years?) and I don't know a lot of the songs and artists that he knows. But we've had time to chat about guitars and playing and that's been nice. He did a really nice blues riff and I noticed that he was just playing a scale on the 5 and 7 fret. I'm hoping we have time that he can show me what he was doing, but the house is VERY busy most of the time.

I'm hoping that real life will settle down soon.

Chirpity Chirp

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 17:57:00 +0000

I've not had much time or inclination to post here over the last few weeks. Real life has gotten quite interesting and I've alluded to some of it already. My wife's health continues to be a concern, though she is clearly on the mend. Beyond that there is several lessor stress inducing events going on that have had my attention. At the top of that list is the fact that we're trying desperately to sell and be rid of this house during a miserable housing market. That, plus having a flooded basement during our first showing last week really took the wind out of my sail.

It's not that I haven't taken the time to play. It's just that I don't know what I'd write about it. Thankfully spring has finally come to northern Indiana and I've taken advantage of the warmer weather. Last Wednesday I was able to take Patrick (my Oscar Schmidt) out to the library's picnic table and just wail away a lot of my frustrations. Nearby to the table the library has erected a bird feeder and I was not alone in my song making. It was a little unreal in hearing birdsong alongside my passionate, hard strumming. But the end result was my becoming a little gentler and I was struck at how the two sounds merged and meshed. I even fancied that the birds were somehow reacting and echoing my guitar. How much of that may have been true, I don't know. I'm just saying that I was struck with the beauty of birdsong and I was truly inspired that half hour.

Stress will ever be a part of our lives, but if I can find those half hours every now and again, I'll be ok.

Guitar Lesson #24

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 14:45:00 +0000

Don't assume your strap is going to stay on the endpin. Especially if you're playing someone else's guitar. Those are the guitars most likely to have the strap pop off and send the guitar crashing to the floor, bumping every conceivable hard surface on the way down.

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 21:24:00 +0000

Well, it's been a long week in the AmishGuitar household. I've been recovering from a nasty head and chest cold and have just realized I didn't post a guitar lesson for this month. I'm afraid, dear readers, that this week the lesson must give way to my pounding sinuses. One is either very clever or not clever at all when one is taking NyQuil.

I did get my Yamaha back from the luthier and the results are . . . adequate. He was able to adjust the neck angle with a truss rod adjustment. He lowered the saddle and tried to lower the nut but cutting the grooves. This, however, proved to be problematic since the nut just disintegrated when he took the file to the plastic. Luckily he had salvaged a nut from a Taylor that fit almost perfectly, so he did not have to construct a brand new nut from bone for me (that would have been $$$ I did not have). He did say that he would not be able to lower the saddle any more than it is now, so any future adjustments would mean a neck reset. That, of course, has already been ruled out as being too expensive for this instrument.

It plays well enough, I suppose. I do find that it is better at fingerpicking that strumming. Fingerpicking brings out the bell like tones, but strumming just sounds all muddled. The action is real easy now at the first few frets, so the kids have been having fun playing around with it.

I've not had much opportunity to play lately. That is, I haven't felt like playing. I haven't been to church for a month now, owing to many factors that are beyond the scope of this blog. Home has been hectic as my wife recovers from her illness (she's healing fine). Frankly, I feel too worn out by the end of the day to do anything but veg out. And then, of course, I've been sick these past few days.

No matter, this too shall pass. I do plan on being at church on Sunday and be in the praise team. That always seems to get my mojo going again.

Guitar Lesson #23

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 20:34:00 +0000

There is nothing wrong with being a player who "only" knows the cowboy chords and a basic strum. If it brings you joy, enjoy it with pride. Life is too short to worry about what you "can't" do.

Yes, this is corny. But it doesn't hurt to remember it anyway.

Reprieve

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 02:37:00 +0000

It has been a long week. An incredibly long week. I've spent the past 10 days taking care of house and home by myself as my wife recovers in hospital from a sudden illness. Well, lets say a lingering illness that suddenly got worse. At any rate, it's been a long week.

Tonight, however, and with my wife's blessing, I spent the evening with a friend playing guitar and cracking wise. My in-laws came to town and, naturally, they wanted to see their daughter at the hospital. Quite honestly, I was pleased for the break. My parents took the kids for the evening leaving me free to spend time with Doug.

Doug and I have been trying to get together to play for over a year now. Just never seemed to work out. As it was, I couldn't have asked for a nicer time. We sat in his kitchen playing songs, drinking beverages (him:beer, me: Diet. Dr. Pepper--but I really wanted a beer--damn low carb diet) and just generally catching up with each other. It isn't often he gets an evening away from his family either, but his daughter had a swim meet in Indianapolis and he couldn't get away from work obligations.

It was a good mix. I can't play to his level and he can't sing to mine, so we either sounded great or we sounded like crap. But we had fun.

And I feel so much better.

Making lemonade

noreply@blogger.com (Amish Guitar) — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 01:40:00 +0000

Well, the Yamaha turned out to be a lemon. I was right in thinking that there was a significant problem with the neck and the luthier said that it fix it correctly it would need a reset. At three times what I paid for it at the silent auction. So he and I talked a bit about my choices. He said that he can still do a decent set up, tweak the truss rod a bit and file down the nut slots and saddle, but it would really only be noticeable at the top of the fretboard near the nut. The frets down the length would still have a significant high action. Well, this sounded ok to me since I don't really know how to do anything past the fifth fret anyway. He did say that he'd be able to salvage the nut and not have to fabricate a new one (again, a significant cost). So, I told him to go ahead with the setup.

I'm planning on putting some silk and steel strings and letting the kids mess around with it. The little bit I was able to play it, it does have a decent sound for fingerpicking. I'll write a bit more once I have it back from the luthier.