I just spent about an hour noodling on one of my electric guitars, an act that, in my estimation, is one of life's greatest pleasures. Since I was 13, the experience of plugging a guitar into an amplifier and launching off into a musical fourth dimension has been nothing short of miraculous.
Playing guitar, or any instrument for that matter, transports you to a special place where reality and dreams mix, where the mathematical fundamentals of music morph into pure emotion and adrenaline, and where you instantly make a connection to the divine. I think of it as church for Guitar Dad.
And did I mention that it's just plain fun? Here's to all you loud guitar players out there, some of you occasionally unnerving your families and neighbors, but all of you surely enriching your lives forever. Crank it up, I say!
Below is a super-brief (and low-fi) video of Guitar Dad in the zone.
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It feels good to rid yourself of unnecessary clutter, doesn't it? My son and I went fishing with some buddies over the weekend. We headed out first thing Saturday morning to a small lake not far from our neighborhood, one equipped with a nice spacious pier. We got dirty. We got slimy. We got smelly. A new report shows that Florida is the second most miserable state, just ahead of bottom-of-the-barrel Oregon. Excuse me? Our chosen peninsula of golden sunshine, sparkling beaches and Mickey Mouse is a hell hole? My family just returned from an all-too-brief overnight trip to St. Augustine, that charming if slightly down-at-the-heels relic south of Jacksonville. We had a wonderful time of it, traipsing around the 300-year-old fort, grabbing lunch at the Milltop Tavern on touristy St. George Street, and setting up camp at a Hampton Inn on nearby Vilano Beach. It turned out to be a spectacular afternoon for splashing around in the surf, and the kids couldn't get enough of the sun and sand. |
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