So long ago, and far away, before the million fires of the inter webs raged into the night, back when folks often concentrated on things for minutes and even hours at a time, back then in the dark ages of libraries and FM radio, I... I became a teen.
I'd say if they existed back then I would've been a Goth, but Goths did exist back then, and I wasn't one. I was considered a stoner, long after any interest in drugs or experimentation stopped. I'm told I would've been called a Hessian in some circles.
So I was the (totally imagined) cool chick in black leather and jeans, who listened to mostly metal and hard rock, and wrote bad poetry, some of which you've read on this site, ( and you've only just begun, because it's kind of like a bad road accident that you just can't look away from) and was sometimes in bands that didn't really play. I wanted to be a rock star, because being a poet seemed kinda sissified, and, of course, what I had to say had deep meaning that needed to be shared with the world.
But it was so much worse than that. You see, I grew up with parents who loved music. Music was how folks communicated when words were hard. My Dad was an incredibly talented NATURAL musician, with the voice of an angel, perfect pitch and he played a mean acoustic guitar. Because of this, the guitar is an almost mystical being to me, comprising my earliest memories, feelings of home, feelings of longing, belonging, expression, connection. Wow. That's a lot to put on a piece of wood and some strings, is it not?
So I wanted to play guitar: to be like Dad, to be a rock star, to impress the ladies, to be one of the guys, to impress the guys, to be a demi god, really. I begged and lobbied for a guitar. Dad finally gave in and got me one, along with a pitch pipe, chord book, and some picks.
He even tried to teach me a bit, but that generally ended in tears and frustration, since I was incredibly stupid, musically. How stupid? I have no pitch, I sing off key. I have no rhythm. I was the kid they gave the sand blocks or triangle to in elementary school, then took them away because I kept missing my beat. LOVING music does not equate to talent, it seems.
So I tried, some, but at that age, (14 Ish) I also had: no patience. No determination. A low tolerance for pain. Arguably, a life. People to see, places to go, ya know? In short order, I gave up, accepting my fate as a talentless music lover, and to some degree, set my rock star dreams behind me.
Flash forward 30 odd years: I have no rhythm. I have no pitch. I rarely write actual poems now. I am fully aware the world has no need to hear what I have to say... It rolls on just fine without my participation.
Now here's what I do have: patience. Determination. An insanely high pain tolerance ( thanks, psychotically angry uterus!). No life. Seriously... I've been making a living and raising a kid, and only now that she's grown, have I looked around and said, " right... So where was I? Oh that's right... Writing, ren faires, music, geekdom".
Here the amazing, freeing part: I DON'T HAVE TO BE COOL ANYMORE. That's right. Not at all. No one's around to bully me for not fitting in, and if they do, I can call the cops on their ass. I've done my public service, been a minor captain of industry, paid my taxes, supported others, raised a useful addition to the planet. Furthermore, that useful addition to the planet will sometimes think I'm cool and other times not, and there's not much left I can DO about that.
This means: I get to dress like a fool and go to faires. I get to watch hours of doctor who and Xena, and if you don't like it, go elsewhere. With today's technology, no one has to watch what I am watching or do what I am doing. (In my day, kids, video type entertainment could only be watched on a tv, and most houses had exactly one.). I get to write. I get to post my poems, because it doesn't matter if everyone hates them. And I get to finally try and learn to play guitar. I would make a hilarious geriatric rock star, so the pressure is off to make something of it.
So that's what I'm doing. Just carving out bits of love and passion and fun along the way, while not having to worry what they amount to. And that's arguably, the best place I could POSSIBLY be.
And that leads us to...The Alleged Guitar .
I'd say if they existed back then I would've been a Goth, but Goths did exist back then, and I wasn't one. I was considered a stoner, long after any interest in drugs or experimentation stopped. I'm told I would've been called a Hessian in some circles.
So I was the (totally imagined) cool chick in black leather and jeans, who listened to mostly metal and hard rock, and wrote bad poetry, some of which you've read on this site, ( and you've only just begun, because it's kind of like a bad road accident that you just can't look away from) and was sometimes in bands that didn't really play. I wanted to be a rock star, because being a poet seemed kinda sissified, and, of course, what I had to say had deep meaning that needed to be shared with the world.
But it was so much worse than that. You see, I grew up with parents who loved music. Music was how folks communicated when words were hard. My Dad was an incredibly talented NATURAL musician, with the voice of an angel, perfect pitch and he played a mean acoustic guitar. Because of this, the guitar is an almost mystical being to me, comprising my earliest memories, feelings of home, feelings of longing, belonging, expression, connection. Wow. That's a lot to put on a piece of wood and some strings, is it not?
So I wanted to play guitar: to be like Dad, to be a rock star, to impress the ladies, to be one of the guys, to impress the guys, to be a demi god, really. I begged and lobbied for a guitar. Dad finally gave in and got me one, along with a pitch pipe, chord book, and some picks.
He even tried to teach me a bit, but that generally ended in tears and frustration, since I was incredibly stupid, musically. How stupid? I have no pitch, I sing off key. I have no rhythm. I was the kid they gave the sand blocks or triangle to in elementary school, then took them away because I kept missing my beat. LOVING music does not equate to talent, it seems.
So I tried, some, but at that age, (14 Ish) I also had: no patience. No determination. A low tolerance for pain. Arguably, a life. People to see, places to go, ya know? In short order, I gave up, accepting my fate as a talentless music lover, and to some degree, set my rock star dreams behind me.
Flash forward 30 odd years: I have no rhythm. I have no pitch. I rarely write actual poems now. I am fully aware the world has no need to hear what I have to say... It rolls on just fine without my participation.
Now here's what I do have: patience. Determination. An insanely high pain tolerance ( thanks, psychotically angry uterus!). No life. Seriously... I've been making a living and raising a kid, and only now that she's grown, have I looked around and said, " right... So where was I? Oh that's right... Writing, ren faires, music, geekdom".
Here the amazing, freeing part: I DON'T HAVE TO BE COOL ANYMORE. That's right. Not at all. No one's around to bully me for not fitting in, and if they do, I can call the cops on their ass. I've done my public service, been a minor captain of industry, paid my taxes, supported others, raised a useful addition to the planet. Furthermore, that useful addition to the planet will sometimes think I'm cool and other times not, and there's not much left I can DO about that.
This means: I get to dress like a fool and go to faires. I get to watch hours of doctor who and Xena, and if you don't like it, go elsewhere. With today's technology, no one has to watch what I am watching or do what I am doing. (In my day, kids, video type entertainment could only be watched on a tv, and most houses had exactly one.). I get to write. I get to post my poems, because it doesn't matter if everyone hates them. And I get to finally try and learn to play guitar. I would make a hilarious geriatric rock star, so the pressure is off to make something of it.
So that's what I'm doing. Just carving out bits of love and passion and fun along the way, while not having to worry what they amount to. And that's arguably, the best place I could POSSIBLY be.
And that leads us to...The Alleged Guitar .
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