Guitar Memories

I’ve always wanted to learn to play guitar. Like, always always. My sister took guitar when I took fiddle lessons, but somehow I never got around to asking if I could take guitar too. After all, why would I switch to my own backup instrument? Not to mention, that I didn’t want to learn to just play chords – I wanted to learn to finger pick and play classical music on the guitar. Who even does that at sixteen?

When I took my first post-graduate school job, I taught piano at a private school in the San Antonio area. They offered piano through three teachers, violin/viola, and guitar through two teachers. We all taught in this little music wing that had one big studio, three medium sized ones, and four or so small ones. Our students would hang out in the hallway during free time because we never enforced the no-phone rules.

I was elated when both guitar teachers offered to help me learn to play guitar. I had taught myself some bad habits when a cousin wed and I wrote her a song for her wedding. I would play different songs that I wrote for the classical/acoustic guitar teacher. He would teach me various snippets of classical songs.

Unfortunately, he would also complain about his wife making him sleep on the couch. He would lament their tumultuous relationship. He would ask me where I was when he was single in college.

I would laughingly remind him, that I hadn’t even been born at that time.

Those questions and topics quickly made me withdraw from the lessons. I didn’t want to participate in even someone’s fantasy of an affair. Even after I started dating B, this guy just couldn’t quit with the inappropriate comments.

I hid out in my room, emerging only if there were multiple teachers in the hallway. I quit playing my guitar.

Today, I reminisced about this situation with a studio owner who employs me to teach music. He laughed, and told me that if I had any guitar questions, that he wouldn’t ever ask where I was when he was in college.

And that, dear friends, is how the world is righted. Maybe I’ll learn guitar after all.


About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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