Author
New Member
Back when I was 13 years young, I was taking one my initial guitar lessons at nearby music shop. To my hypo pubertal, pimple face surprise, my teacher was an angel dropped from heaven (secular expression). She was in her early twenties, long curly blonde hair, caring light green eyes, and, to my luck, a classically trained guitarist from the University of Miami!
I was knocked out cold, figurative speaking, with heart-shaped dingbats orbiting my dizzy head and a lose tongue dangling out the side of my mouth. I was, to say the the least, bewildered by her beauty! My hypo-sensitive hormones, like electrical currents, raced through my body chaotically.
She was well taught, as an an accomplished classical guitarist, in the fingerpicking technique; a true master. I, charmed by her youthful beauty, wanted nothing more than to impress the day lights out of her by practicing my heart out between the weekly lessons. I practiced like a wild animal; until my fingers bled from the constant practicing at home. This in itself, made me, from that initial lesson with my beauty queen teacher, a pretty strong fingerpicking guitarist.
Then, during our forth or fifth lesson, she asked me, after seeing my fast progress and keen attention during the lessons, that I was well ready to learn my very first song. Then, straight out of my mouth (and being a Led Zeppelin freak since birth), I asked to learn one of the most difficult songs ever recorded in rock history! This song demanded true fingerpicking command; the song was none other than, Stairway To Heaven by Led Zeppelin. A song labelled as the anthem of Rock n Roll music!
I remember her adorable head snap back just slightly at the fact that I had chosen such a classic piece as my very first song as a beginning guitar student. She gave it brief thought, consented, and then began to instruct me on how to structure the first measures of the song on the guitar. My focus was sharp because I was now determined, more than ever, to impress her regardless of the work ahead of me.
I practiced every single minute I could spare on the sections of the songs I had for homework. After each part of the song was learned and brought to a polished finished, I returned the next week and played the complete song, with the proper fingerpicking technique in-place, and yes, I blew her away!
(The song's songwriter, Jimmy Page, would of shaken my hand if present...I played it so well)
Then she gave me what I so desperately wanted, a long, warm embrace that made my eyes roll back and the points of my lips touch my ears. I felt alive for the first time in my life!
(Then, as all things normally do, she left the music shop for another job, and she was replaced by Mark -- A long hair guitar kook who did not know one end of the guitar from the other, in hindsight)
Because of that indirect motivation to gain her attention, I became, even then, a pretty good fingerpicking guitarist: A right-hand skill, I learned later, that most guitarists I came across with had a bitterly hard time mastering, or even achieving the basic right-hand positioning over the strings (a basic first step to learning the daunting technique). I was always complemented on how well I delivered a song because of my fingerpicking control.
But what these guitar players did not know was that my motivation was never to actually achieve the technique itself, but to attract the attention of a young music teacher that had pulled my heart string so hard that learning to fingerpick was not at all a laboring task, but a way to reach out to her in my own innocent; teenage way.
Her name was Beth and, at times, she would pop into my thoughts now and again. She indirectly influenced my playing just by her female beauty and charm; awakening a teenage longing and resulting with a confidence, musically speaking, that I still own today.
Now why all this talk?
I am currently picking up the guitar, after many, many years of inactive play. I am resting (for now) my foundation on the skill Beth taught me: fingerpicking. I will be going into the folk/country genre by exposing my ear to such greats as Chet Atkins, Gordon Lightfoot, Jim Croce, James Taylor and yes (believe it or not), even Tracy Chapmen (among others).
I am currently learning a notation-based software to get my gears back in motion, as well as, learning how to fine tune my ear via vocal training, plus establishing my still unfolding foundation with lessons on how to express myself in the folk/country style authentically via my instruments: guitar and voice.
So here I venture forth once again into guitar with zeal and vigor, patience and persistence, and a true love of the craft. I will do well...I just will. Thanks Beth...wherever you are!
Thanks for listening!
I was knocked out cold, figurative speaking, with heart-shaped dingbats orbiting my dizzy head and a lose tongue dangling out the side of my mouth. I was, to say the the least, bewildered by her beauty! My hypo-sensitive hormones, like electrical currents, raced through my body chaotically.
She was well taught, as an an accomplished classical guitarist, in the fingerpicking technique; a true master. I, charmed by her youthful beauty, wanted nothing more than to impress the day lights out of her by practicing my heart out between the weekly lessons. I practiced like a wild animal; until my fingers bled from the constant practicing at home. This in itself, made me, from that initial lesson with my beauty queen teacher, a pretty strong fingerpicking guitarist.
Then, during our forth or fifth lesson, she asked me, after seeing my fast progress and keen attention during the lessons, that I was well ready to learn my very first song. Then, straight out of my mouth (and being a Led Zeppelin freak since birth), I asked to learn one of the most difficult songs ever recorded in rock history! This song demanded true fingerpicking command; the song was none other than, Stairway To Heaven by Led Zeppelin. A song labelled as the anthem of Rock n Roll music!
I remember her adorable head snap back just slightly at the fact that I had chosen such a classic piece as my very first song as a beginning guitar student. She gave it brief thought, consented, and then began to instruct me on how to structure the first measures of the song on the guitar. My focus was sharp because I was now determined, more than ever, to impress her regardless of the work ahead of me.
I practiced every single minute I could spare on the sections of the songs I had for homework. After each part of the song was learned and brought to a polished finished, I returned the next week and played the complete song, with the proper fingerpicking technique in-place, and yes, I blew her away!
(The song's songwriter, Jimmy Page, would of shaken my hand if present...I played it so well)
Then she gave me what I so desperately wanted, a long, warm embrace that made my eyes roll back and the points of my lips touch my ears. I felt alive for the first time in my life!
(Then, as all things normally do, she left the music shop for another job, and she was replaced by Mark -- A long hair guitar kook who did not know one end of the guitar from the other, in hindsight)
Because of that indirect motivation to gain her attention, I became, even then, a pretty good fingerpicking guitarist: A right-hand skill, I learned later, that most guitarists I came across with had a bitterly hard time mastering, or even achieving the basic right-hand positioning over the strings (a basic first step to learning the daunting technique). I was always complemented on how well I delivered a song because of my fingerpicking control.
But what these guitar players did not know was that my motivation was never to actually achieve the technique itself, but to attract the attention of a young music teacher that had pulled my heart string so hard that learning to fingerpick was not at all a laboring task, but a way to reach out to her in my own innocent; teenage way.
Her name was Beth and, at times, she would pop into my thoughts now and again. She indirectly influenced my playing just by her female beauty and charm; awakening a teenage longing and resulting with a confidence, musically speaking, that I still own today.
Now why all this talk?
I am currently picking up the guitar, after many, many years of inactive play. I am resting (for now) my foundation on the skill Beth taught me: fingerpicking. I will be going into the folk/country genre by exposing my ear to such greats as Chet Atkins, Gordon Lightfoot, Jim Croce, James Taylor and yes (believe it or not), even Tracy Chapmen (among others).
I am currently learning a notation-based software to get my gears back in motion, as well as, learning how to fine tune my ear via vocal training, plus establishing my still unfolding foundation with lessons on how to express myself in the folk/country style authentically via my instruments: guitar and voice.
So here I venture forth once again into guitar with zeal and vigor, patience and persistence, and a true love of the craft. I will do well...I just will. Thanks Beth...wherever you are!
Thanks for listening!
