Back in the (Guitar) Saddle Again!

There is a tendency among participants in certain hobbies to give up that hobby for awhile, and then come back refreshed after a certain period of time. I don’t know what it is per se, suffice it to say that I am recently on the other end of such a sabbatical.
I’ve been playing piano by ear since I was eight. When I was fourteen, I taught myself to play drums. When I was eighteen or nineteen, I started to mess around with a guitar.
It’s easy enough to play the piano. Given enough time, a person completely unfamiliar with the instrument can pluck out a tune. Drums took a little more time and practice, but the result was a big amount of pleasure at being able to attain more and more proficiency.
The guitar is another animal altogether.
A lot of people can play guitar, but real proficiency with a guitar (should I perhaps say intimacy?) is a lifelong pursuit. While I played regularly and practiced regularly, I got pretty good. I found the satisfaction of becoming better was ten times the level of pleasure that drumming allowed.
For me, at least.
This is a difficult thing to illustrate. I love to play drums, and I know that I’m good at it. Given a little practice, the rust would shake free from me, and I’d be hot again. But drumming compared to playing guitar, in my case, is like a dear friend compared to a passionate lover. While drumming and I will always be very close chums, the press of my fingers to wood and steel is like deep love.
So I hurt my own feelings a few years ago, when I suddenly lost the desire to play. Sure, I would take out one of my guitars to strum a bit with Micki, or with our group of friends, but it seemed I had lost that passionate feeling which was frequently the cause friends and family seeing me with a guitar almost anytime I was sitting down.
I tried and tried to rekindle the relationship, but something was different. And, almost as if in unison with my sudden lack of desire, my guitars became quite popular and went to stay with my boys, who also began to teach themselves to play. I was happy that the instruments had regular use, and that my boys were striving to be musicians. But, I was sad the my desire was gone.
So, for the duration that it lasted, part of me was beyond playing guitar, and slightly heartbroken.

Then, a few weeks ago, we went on vacation and came up with a plan for how we would spend our mornings. It’s slightly odd that a solid week away from your regular surroundings and routines can make you see your non-vacation life in a new light. We decided we would be getting up an hour earlier each morning so that we wouldn’t be rushed, could read the paper and enjoy a nice breakfast together, before readying for work.
It just so happens that the very next day after our return from vacation, our middle boy needed to be back at college. So he had already begun to get some things ready and on the chaise longue by the door for easy loading. Among those bags and shoes was my oldest guitar.
I’ve had that particular friend since I was my youngest son’s age; a sophomore in high school.
I strummed, and plucked a little, recognizing that she needed new strings and good wipe down. It felt remarkably good to sit and play, and so I did, for nearly two hours, while the rest of the family were out buying school clothes.
The next day, fingers delightfully sore, I bought new string and picks and went up and retrieved my favorite guitar (not the same as my oldest) from the oldest son’s room, cleaned it, restrung it and the next day, after breakfast, while Micki wrote, I played.
I’m still rusty, but I’ve been playing almost every day since, and it’s been wonderful. Whatever occurred between myself and my guitars has passed and we’re back together.
Today, I even came up with a little ditty which, while it needs more work, will be the first song I’ve written for years and years.
It’s remarkably good to be back with my guitars again!