What I Learned After One Month With a Guitar

Spoiler Alert: It’s Not How to Play The Guitar

I had been thinking about it for a while, and the pandemic just gave me another reason to go through with it. But one month ago today, I walked into a music store, pointed at one of their guitars, and said, “That one.”

This wasn’t like Mindbender in the old Stillwater song. The guitar didn’t speak to me. We didn’t have a moment. There wasn’t some spiritual connection between that oddly shaped piece of spruce and myself. It was more straightforward than that. I had walked into a store that sold mostly expensive high-end guitars. Fortunately for me, they were sorted for the most part by price.

So, I walked all the way to the one on the end and said, ‘That one.”

It’s a Taylor Academy 10 Dreadnought for you aficionados. To me, it was the one I could afford.

I already had some online lessons lined up and a whole queue of YouTube videos, so I was ready to go as soon as I got home. I have played for at least an hour every day since, and these are the things I have learned.

You’re Not Too Old To Learn New Things

I didn’t actually learn this one; I already knew it. But the guitar just enforced that belief. I’m 65 years old, and I’ve never stopped learning. The old saying needs to be changed to, “You can’t teach a lazy dog new tricks.” Maybe, “You can’t teach a stupid dog new tricks. But an old dog?

Bring it.

I was actually amazed at how quickly I began to pick up on basic concepts. I guess I shouldn’t have. Not just because I am a quick learner, but that’s part of it. But mostly, it was the things I didn’t have to learn. I’ve been listening to music since I was born. I know what it sounds like, and I know what I like. I’ve always been able to tap my foot or clap my hands to the tune, so I knew how to keep time.

All I had to do was transfer that knowledge into my left and right hands.

And that brings us to the second thing I learned.

You Can Rub Your Belly and Pat Your Head at the Same Time

Remember that game when you were a kid. And for everyone, it started the exact same way. Some other kid, probably someone you didn’t like said, “I betcha can’t…” That’s pretty much the childhood equivalent of, “Hold My Beer.”

And the fact is, you couldn’t do it. For about a minute. And then you could. You just had to train one hand to do one thing and the other hand to do another thing. At the same time. And that’s all playing the guitar is.

Probably the same for any musical instrument.

And it’s a little more complicated with the guitar because the number and complexity of the different things are significant. But you don’t have to learn it all at once. Learn how to do one thing with one hand. Practice that one thing until it’s second nature. Then learn the other thing with the other hand.

It’s like juggling. You learn how to throw one ball with one hand. Then you learn how to throw one ball with the other hand. Next, learn how to throw two balls at once. Step four is, you’re juggling.

Playing the Guitar Hurts

I’m kind of an all-in sort of guy. Don’t believe me? Scroll down when you finish reading this. 200 articles in 5 months. I tend not to do things in a half-assed fashion. So, when I got the guitar, I made a commitment to myself. I’m not sure where it came from, but I probably heard it somewhere.

I’m going to practice for an hour a day.

Sounds great, right?

Lasted for about 90 seconds.

Why? Did I suddenly lose interest? No, my desire to conquer the muse Euterpe still burned. Was I overcome with the sudden knowledge that I have absolutely no musical talent? No, I already knew that.

It was because playing the guitar hurts.

A lot.

Imagine someone says to you, “I’m going to stretch a thin piece of wire across this wood board, and I want you to pound your fingertip into it over and over.”

Uh, no, thank you.

I didn’t play it until, like Bryan Adams, my fingers bled. But I did play it until they got really sore. I mean like, really sore. I’m badass like that.

But I discovered that after an hour or so, I could play for another two minutes. So, I did that all day for a few days, until I could string five minutes together. Then ten, and so on.

Twenty minutes is still the limit after a month, but I do that several times a day.

It’s not the fingertips anymore. Callouses have formed over those. No, I discovered something else. The human hand has got a ton of little tiny muscle in them. And they get sore like any other muscle.

Playing the guitar hurts.

You Don’t Need Musical Talent To Learn How To Play Music

This is where I expected to fail. I know I can’t dance. I know I can’t sing. So, I fully expected not to be able to get very good. And I was okay with that. I’m not doing this for anyone but me. I don’t know if anyone but my very patient wife will ever hear me play.

But after a couple of weeks, I actually began to make music. And that’s when I realized I didn’t need musical talent. I’m not even sure there is any such thing.

What you have to be able to do is read. And listen. And do what you are told. Over and over. You have to be able to count.

And that’s pretty much it. You have to be able to follow instructions and be willing to do it a hundred times. A thousand.

Remember the first time you had to tie your own shoes? I don’t either. Who would? What a dumbass question that was.

But the point is, you probably made a mess of it. Until you did it over and over, and it became second nature. And now, you don’t even think about it; you just do it.

Unless you have those Velcro shoelaces. I may be old, but I’m not Velcro shoelaces old.

But the point is, with enough repetition, you can train yourself to do most anything, which brings me to:

Muscle Memory is a Magical Thing

Of course, I’ve heard of muscle memory, and I’m sure I have incorporated it into hundreds of tasks. Things you do without thinking simply because you’ve done it so many times before.

But it still amazes me how it works with the guitar. One day, you are forming a chord by places this finger on that string at this fret, and that finger on that string, and so on. And then one day, Bam! All the fingers just go where they are supposed to. As a unit. As a single team. Except for that effin A chord. My fingers still spaz out on that one. But I have hope.

And this gives me a new-found respect for professional musicians. Because I know what they have done. What they had to do. They weren’t born with it. They practiced it. For every song they make look easy, there are probably thousands of hours behind it.

Music Hath Charms

Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast.

To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.

~ William Congreve

And this is the most important lesson I have learned. I thought I already knew it. We’ve all been there. Music has magical powers. It can make us happy when we are sad. It can bring us to tears of joy and tears of pain. It can transport us back in time, like nothing else. It can inspire us and make us want to be better versions of ourselves.

And that’s just listening to it.

Making it? That’s a whole other thing. The ability to take that piece of spruce and metal and make music come out of it? I can’t express the pure joy derived from being able to make music. Actually make it.

I can’t wait until I’ve been playing every day for a year.

My wife, not so much.