Saturday, March 29, 2008
Making Beautiful Music
As you now know, TFMCD's pan arrived in perfect condition yesterday, and she's already banging out Volcano on it. It makes a beautiful, escapist sound that you have to hear to believe.
I learned a valuable lesson today, as I planted a couple of passion fruit vines on the pergola in our beautiful backyard paradise. TFMCD was working hard on the pan, and I found that I loved every sound emanating from our living...err...music room. Even when she completely missed a note, it was still music to my ears.
I was reminded of the hundreds of times that I have been plucking away at my guitar, making a noise that falls somewhere within that genre of sounds occupied by fingernails on chalkboards and horny cats. In my judgment, the sounds coming from TFMCD and her pan fell nowhere within those parameters. I looked in on her through an open window just as she hit a very wrong note. She looked at me, smiled, and said "I suck!" I can only guess at the number times have I made that same statement about my own guitar playing, and she would just look at me, smile, and say, "It sounds good to me." That was when it dawned on me that to her, the sound of my guitar is music, regardless of how terribly I play it. She's not patronizing me or just trying to encourage me when I make mistakes!
She really likes to hear me play, even when I suck!
Just as I love to hear her on that pan, even when she is perhaps somewhat less than stellar in her performance.
I know I'm going to be a better guitar player someday. I'll never be a Clapton, or Mac McAnally, or Mike Broward, but I'll be pretty good. I can't miss. I have TFMCD. She will one day be a good pan player. Probably not a Robert Greenidge or a Yohan Popwell, but she'll be good.
She can't miss. She's got me.
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I learned a valuable lesson today, as I planted a couple of passion fruit vines on the pergola in our beautiful backyard paradise. TFMCD was working hard on the pan, and I found that I loved every sound emanating from our living...err...music room. Even when she completely missed a note, it was still music to my ears.
I was reminded of the hundreds of times that I have been plucking away at my guitar, making a noise that falls somewhere within that genre of sounds occupied by fingernails on chalkboards and horny cats. In my judgment, the sounds coming from TFMCD and her pan fell nowhere within those parameters. I looked in on her through an open window just as she hit a very wrong note. She looked at me, smiled, and said "I suck!" I can only guess at the number times have I made that same statement about my own guitar playing, and she would just look at me, smile, and say, "It sounds good to me." That was when it dawned on me that to her, the sound of my guitar is music, regardless of how terribly I play it. She's not patronizing me or just trying to encourage me when I make mistakes!
She really likes to hear me play, even when I suck!
Just as I love to hear her on that pan, even when she is perhaps somewhat less than stellar in her performance.
I know I'm going to be a better guitar player someday. I'll never be a Clapton, or Mac McAnally, or Mike Broward, but I'll be pretty good. I can't miss. I have TFMCD. She will one day be a good pan player. Probably not a Robert Greenidge or a Yohan Popwell, but she'll be good.
She can't miss. She's got me.