Adding a guitar...

I have wanted to play the guitar for about fifteen years. I had these dreams in high school of becoming a singer. I always wished I was brave enough and flighty enough to buy a big van, paint it pink, put stars on the ceiling, and head out onto the open road. Everyone says they want to be a rock star, but I really wanted to be a rock star!!! Up on the stage, playing the guitar, singing my guts out, hearing the beat of the drums in my chest, feeling the swell of the audience around me; the hot warmth of stage lights; the light of stars behind the crowd; the feeling of being someone doing something. Fast forward to reality...I never learned to play the guitar. I never even bought one. I didn't buy a van either or pink paint or stars. I never felt brave enough for the open road. I chose a practical path. I went to college. I practiced the piano. I sang in the mixed and women's choirs. I never painted anything pink. Now I am here...and I am not a rock star.

A few years ago my best friend of the time bought me a guitar for Christmas. A little wide neck music store version that actually sounded pretty good. I looked up a few chords on the internet. The purchase of the guitar coincided with the entrance of a certain long haired, guitar playing man into my life. I really thought my hippie dreams were coming true. My rock star dream again appeared on the horizon, but now she was wearing bell bottom jeans and a sweater and wanted to sing Gillian Welch and Kathleen Edwards and Dar William and Nanci Girffith and have a tree tattooed on her ankle. The dream had changed as I had, but was still just as real. The long haired hippie boy gave me a few lessons. I learned to play three chords and two songs. A real step forward in my music career.

Two years ago, still in love with the hippie and still unable to play the guitar, I bought a steel string folk guitar from my sister in law for fifty bucks. I tried to play my three chord, two song set, but the strings hurt my fingers. The dream went back in the case and stagnated for the next year and half.

Four months ago I decided enough was enough! Rock star dreams and long haired boys aside I was going to learn to play the guitar because I had two of them sitting in my room...waiting. I decided to try something new and bold, so I signed up for lessons from a real guitar teacher. (Consequently, this is a very smart move for anyone serious about learning to play an instrument. Hippie boys are fine if you're really just about the flirt, but if you want a little more than giggling for your strings, I recommend a professional). So, I have been playing the guitar seriously for about four months. My chord library has increased significantly and I have about ten songs on my list of "songs I can play." It is a piece of my life that makes me proud. First, because it is hard! Second, because I am learning to play the steel string even though it hurts. Third, because I am finally getting something I have always wanted. I'm telling you there is sweet, sweet satisfaction in doing something you always wanted to do.

I still see my rock star dream emerge from the shadows now and then. She is still wearing the bell bottoms, although now she calls them flares, her hair is long, and she is pretty happy singing Gillian Welch and other songs penned by powerful women songwriters in the folk world. It is a better place for her than rock and roll. When I see her, she smiles, waves to me, gets into her van and drives away. The van is pink and has stars on the ceiling. Watching her go, I think about the chance I missed to be brave. The same reckless abandon that could have ruled my life in my twenties went the practical way and now she has to think like a grown up.

Still...I feel drawn to the dreams of my fifteen year old self, when time was something I had more of than I could imagine. Can we live the dreams we had when we were young? Can we walk over to them and say, "Hey, can I get a ride? I'd like to come along." If it's possible...then adding a guitar was a good decision. This house needs a little music.