Guitar Love

My brother Ryan has been teaching himself how to play guitar. It's easy when you have the internet and some time for practice. My other brother, Chad, also bought himself a guitar and has been playing. Sunday night I got a text from Ryan informing me there would be a jam session in my dad's garage. I was there. I found my old guitar and amp, the ones John bought me when I was sixteen, and headed out the door.

I am terribly rusty. I remember a lot of chords, but not all that I once knew. My amp still works, but my cord was no good. Between the three of us, we had two good working cords, so we had to share. Ryan played several songs, and he was really good. Chad played a few. I dug through the front pocket of my guitar case and found a bunch of old papers on which I had written down the chords of many different songs. Most of them April had written down for me. I smiled when I recognized her impossible-to-read handwriting. I smiled at the songs we used to play in her basement. They were mostly old REM songs, a few Bob Dylan, a few old Pink Floyd songs. I tuned my guitar and played some of them. They came back to me quickly, and the chords started to come more easily. My fingers hurt a little, but it was a good hurt.

My dad must have thought this jam session was awesome, because he kept taking pictures of us. I watched Ryan play Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" and I just melted. I have no words to explain the way I feel watching people play the guitar. The ways his fingers and hands moved across the neck, casually, easily picking out notes and chords that blended together perfectly. They way my own fingers felt on the frets and the strings. The way I could hear when my high E string wasn't tuned just right. The way it brought me back.

I said that one of us has to pick a different instrument so we can actually play together like a band. But I'm not willing to give up the guitar, and I doubt they will either. But that's okay. We are not going to start a band to become famous or anything. It's enough just to get together and play. I want to do it often. I want to learn more and get better.

In high school, April and I decided we were going to play this song at the talent show. We practiced every day after school. When the time came to audition, I chickened out. Oh, well.