I took the guitar out last week.
Not out on the town, or even out of the house. Just out of the corner in my office that it has occupied for the better part of two years. The guitar was coated in a thick layer of dust. The strings were out of tune. I tried to remember how to play the first song that I had learned on the instrument, which was “Let Her Cry” (yes, the Hootie classic). I couldn’t even remember how to finger the chords properly.
So here I am, with a guitar that has been wiped clean and lightly oiled. I replaced the strings with new ones, a Phosphor Bronze set that claims to offer “warm, bright, and balanced tones”. I have watched the YouTube instructional videos; I have studied the chord patterns of my favorite songs on Ultimate Guitar.
And now I’m strumming. It’s not good, mind you. If someone were to show up at my house for a visit, I would quickly put the instrument down and pretend like I was doing something else. But even if it’s in secret it still counts as practice. I’m getting better each day. I’m getting more comfortable with the strums and the chords and the humming of lyric patterns at the same time.
I’m a dining room rocker, a backyard balladeer. And I’m having fun.