Two Rookies

So there we were, Lane with his spiffy new "classic" acoustic guitar, me with my discount unplugged electric guitar. Both, coincidentally, of the Ibanez brand.

Lane, the complete novice guitarist. Me, with zero experience at teaching guitar. We made a fine couple. The upside of two rookies going at it is that there are deep reservoirs of patience abounding, as well as the natural excitement of new beginnings.

Like when Lane observed that the guitar needed some tuning. Was he ever right. Technology had rusted my training - I rely almost entirely on my electronic tuner, but had left it at home. I was thrilled to realize that, after just two minutes of "Ummm... maybe..." I remembered how to do it. I thought it best to simply explain HOW to do it, and let the pupil actually test his ear and do the adjusting. He nailed it! I mean, on two of the strings he hit perfect pitch on his first twist of the peg. Beginner's luck? Divine guidance? Call it.

I broke out the song that I'll be dueting at Calvary since it consisted of only three chords and frankly, since I could use the practice. I'd already gone over the C chord with him in North Carolina, and he remembered it with little guidance. Then we dared to try D7. I find the finger positioning to be relatively easy here, but for some reason a couple of the strings sounded dead.

It was at this point that true guitar instructors would've gotten a chuckle. I treated Lane's gripping hand like it was a creaky Chevrolet... literally circling around him, bending, squinting, peering under the fingers on the neck, scratching my head. "Why the..." Walk back to my guitar. Try to place my hand like his. Slide my fingers around at crazy angles. Nothing I did could reproduce his "dead" sound. At last I figured out that he was holding it too gently (which I guess made sense, since after even ten minutes a newbie's fingers get string-creased and raw). We played around with a couple different grips and soon he was getting some ringing, clear sound.

Next it was time to "scrimmage." I reasoned that it was too much to try for him to switch between chords on the fly just yet. So we worked out a routine where he took the C chord, and I the others. Next was the simple two-step strum pattern. First, pluck just the top string. Second, a full strum of all six strings.

Lane settled in on one living room sofa. I laid on my back on the other sofa, letting him watch my strumming from above so that he could master the rhythm. "Top, all, top, all, top, all..." Eventually we were air-guitar jamming. From there, it was fairly easy... he actually struck the strings when we reached C, and I did so on the rest. And sang along. Oh, if the tapes were rolling.

I gave him his first guitar picks. Then we strolled back toward Grandma and Grandpa's house from his, chatting about him playing a song or two at Christmastime, and someday if he finds it to his liking, maybe a two-man act in front of church. Who knows what'll be? Grandma gave me a toy piano when I was in kindergarten, and I think we used it as first base until we smashed it to pieces. Three months into my adult guitar experience, I was about ready to give it up. Three years later I was in a band. It just matters how the wind blows with people's passions. (And thank goodness Grandma went to her grave knowing that I came around to music after just thirty years!).

For a day, anyway, I got to be a guitar mentor. It was about the best Father's Day activity that a sonless guy like me could have!