Things in my house just got a little noisier. I was only along for the ride-or rather, I was the ride. I have strummed an imaginary note....or two since the guitar made it to my house. Jason picked up the guitar again after setting it aside for about 12 years, this should be interesting. He had a weekend, one-man-jam-fest. He said that it was something to do when the weather was too bad to fish (since fish like rain, I guess he means when it's sunny?). Side note: I was walking through the store selecting what instrument I would purchase if someone made me-I was really torn between the harmonica, and the cowbell, and I think-it would be the cowbell-you don't really have to find the note on that, just the beat. It could be fun. This is assuming they stop selling fabric, and stickers, cupcakes, and cell phones, so my other hobbies are not available, and I need to find something new. I wish I desired to be more musically inclined. I certainly appreciate a great musician. I just...can't...practice. I have a lifetime of faked piano lessons, and dusty french horn cases to prove it. Thank goodness amps have low volumes, or I might be looking for another place to live....I've given up hope that Jason will, ;o).
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