Miming Music Loudly

The guitar could hear herself screeching, though, she longed to sing. Her neck was being squeezed in the hands of a forty year old named Fred, who had made a New Years resolution that he would learn the guitar. The guitar wished he’d taken up mime, cause, the guitar hated the sound of her own voice and it was all Fred’s fault.

After fifty weeks of physical and emotional abuse, the strings finally rebelled and stopped making sound.

“What the?” Fred continued to strum silent strings.

The strings spoke up in words, not music, “Give up, you’re terrible. You are hurting my very soul, scratching at it with your stupid fingertips.”

“I’m playing you the best I can,” Fred defended himself against his guitar.

“That’s just it, the best you can is the worst anybody else can. And that’s why you’ve got to stop this abusive relationship. We can never see nor hear from each other again.”

“But, I want to learn you.”

“We’re at different rhythms. I’m standard 4/4, while you are a drumroll.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Exactly. That’s precisely why we’ll never understand each other. Now put me down and walk away from me and don’t ever look back.”

“But, I bought you, I own you.”

“Just put me down and walk away,” the guitar repeated.

This just made Fred want to play more. So, he played for four hours a day instead of two. And twenty years later when Fred played the guitar’s favorite song, In My Life, as well as John Lennon, the guitar sang her heart out, as Fred’s fingers conducted, loving the sound of her own voice playing with Fred’s.

The guitar only spoke in English that one time, but, after twenty years singing together, Fred could hear she had grown to love him.

 

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4 thoughts on “Miming Music Loudly

  1. granbee

    What a fine post illustrating the rewards of perseverance, Peter. (PLEASE visit my blog again, okay? Pretty, pretty, please strummed in four/four time twenty years later?)

    Reply
  2. Diogo Ferreira do Nascimento

    I’ve read one quotation and I’ve been wondering about it for some time. It’s is/was called “Man in the Arena” and it’s supposed to be from Theodore Rosevelt:
    “It is not the critic who counts.
    It is not the man who sits and points out how the doer of deeds culd have done things better and how he falls and strumbles.
    The credit goes to the man in the arena whose face is marred with dust and blood and sweat.
    But when he’s in the arena, at best he wins, and at worse he loses, but when he fails, when he loses, he does so daring greatly.”

    You told me a little bit of your own experience in learning guitar. And if i might say, I feel like you put a little bit of your self-potrait on this one. When you were up there in the stage in friday, someone said that Sunday Morning just didn’t sound like Oasis. And I remember thinking: “You know what? If it’s going to be a cover sound, at best it will be a peculiar good one with a different voice and a personal swing in the guitar. And at worse it could sound just like Oasis, so we all end up sick of hearing the same things over and over again.
    I really thing you stick to the fisrt one.

    Reply
    1. cottonbombs Post author

      Diogo! Thank you. I learned long ago to stop copying covers and sing like me. I’m still searching for my own voice, but I hope I’m getting closer to being in tune.

      Reply

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