I Can Hear It Callin' Me The Way It Used To Do...

I've begun to pick up the ole gee-tar again.

Don't worry, it's a real guitar.  The one I'm playing that is, not that dinky little toy.  Which by the way is a phenomenal way to pass car trips and simultaneously have very little fun.

Well I've tried many times to get into guitar and it just never really worked, I don't know why.  But this time it seemed to have sped along quite nicely.  I was sitting in my English class and my good buddy and ex-bandmate Lucas had his guitar.  We're seniors, it's the last two weeks of school.  Of course we've got nothing better to do.  So I pick the guitar up and try to show him how to play "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" by Led Zeppelin, and I fail miserably.

So that night I went home, watched a lesson on how to play it, and now I've made more progress in a few days on guitar than I have every before.

Anyhow, the point of this whole thing is my realization that music is so ridiculously therapeutic.  Listening to music rarely puts me in a long-term good mood anymore, playing music is my last stand of musical escapism.

For example, today I was in a horrendous mood, down, slightly grumpy, but overall just sad and craving some solitude.  I sat down and started playing on that guitar and totally forgot everything I was upset about.  I even poked around a bit and figured out a part of the song all by myself!

Tonight, just before I wrote this, I composed my own music for one of my many songs which hopefully will be combined soon with the music I just made.

Jimi Hendrix said something along the lines of "Music is a safe type of high. It's more the way it was supposed to be. That's where highness came, I guess, from anyway. It's nothing but rhythm and motion."  And he wasn't kidding.  I've never felt an unsafe high but I can believe him when he compares music to all of his illegal highs and says that they don't stack up to music's high.


All the above was written quite awhile ago and I've just sat down to finish a draft that I'd forgotten about.  Just so we're all clear here.


Anyhow, I'm a few weeks into the new guitar voyage and it feels awesome.  I've written more, practiced more, and etc.  It is an awesome option to have because I'm truly a drummer at heart but I just don't have the ability to keep my kit at home.  Rather than flip out and go into a rage for a lack of musical opportunities, I play my ol gee-tar and the fur on the back of my palms goes away, my fangs retract, my spine is normal again, and all the girls chasing me around screaming 

"JACOB JACOB JACOB!!! I'M ON YOUR TEAM! PUT ME IN COACH JACOB!"

finally go away.  And believe me, it is hard to concentrate on anything with their prattling.  Give me like 3 or 4 minutes to pick up the guitar because I just sprouted a tail as I became enraged from merely thinking about it, and the girls have already broken through the boards on the window I just replaced today.

That cuckoo clock represented 3 or 4 minutes of time passing.  Heck, you may have even spent 3 or 4 minutes trying to figure out why the heck anyone would buy such a thoroughly redneck cuckoo clock.

Now that the fangirls have been warded off, I can continue telling my story.  Or I should say, can continue to conclude my story.  Like I said, I am a drummer at heart, but guitar is a blast.  I also love singing so maybe guitarist-singer could be a possibility after some serious practice.  

Oh and a word to the wise; one of my first blog posts said that I'd be posting songs and creative projects, but after some thought, I've decided to keep that to a minimum.  I'm not arrogant but I tend to stand by my work with pride and am proud of it.  I'm proud of it because I believe it's good, and any old yahoo on the internet (heh, yahoo, internet) who searches for one of the pictures I've used could stumble across a story or song and steal it.  And we dont take too kindly to plagiarists and thievin' scoundrels 'round these parts. *spits*