C-C-C-Crambone!

If you are any kind of Tom and Jerry fan you’ll remember the episode where Jerry’s backwoods Uncle keeps stealing Tom’s whiskers to use as guitar strings so he can play Cr-Cr-Crambone. That’s what I feel like in the guitar class I am taking. Sans mustache, of course. Of course, learning to play the 6-string guitar at age 27 is no easy feat... I just really hate to admit I might do poorly at anything. I’m not used to things being difficult. Thus, my fingers have permanent deep grooves in them from practicing the four chords we have learned in class and I’ve managed to (sloppily) strum a very basic Stand By Me and Happy Birthday. Thrilling, yes?

I realized (while sweating with exertion over getting my fingers wrapped around the correct frets) that learning to play an instrument is a lot like writing. You play and play and play until something resembling a song comes out. I’d imagine it’s the same for most creative arts. Only unlike writing, the guitar does not come naturally to me. I don’t feel any pressing need to play. I just thought it’d be a fun hobby. Now it’s sheer stubbornness that will not allow me to fail at it. I’ll learn to play that damn thing at least as well as Jerry’s Uncle.

I’m making a promise to all of you: if I can’t produce an acceptable Stairway to Heaven by the end of December I will wear a mustache and sing Crambone in my library. During class. While being observed by the Principal.