Wednesday, April 19, 2006

People in hell don't want to rock-n-roll

A friend of mine is taking guitar lessons concurrently with me teaching myself. He's much more advanced than I am since I lack any real musical dedication. There's lots of things I'd practice into oblivion, but music ain't one of 'em.

My parents are very supportive of my music endeavors and they're thrilled when I tell them I learned a new string today and a new note and all that. My intimate friends are all very excited that I am playing the guitar just because it's fun to go on a new adventure vicariously though the travails of someone you love. It's my poor husband, however, who suffers silently hearing the same 8 or so notes and the three nearly identical chords that I know played in rapid succession. He is also vexed by my awful timing, where I pause completely when I'm confused and then resume raggedly.

As a gesture of politeness, I guess, my guitar playing friend passed on a message to me that if I ever wanted to get together to play, I should call him up. It's possible he really feels so friendly to me that he wants to spend some fun time playing guitar with me, but I don't think he knows exactly the (lack of) skills I bring to the table.

I can think of only one person in the universe who would willingly select me as a musical accompanist. Satan. Satan would find the most depraved, wicked thrash guitar-er in Hell and damn him to spend an eternity of jamming with me. It would be even cooler if jam sessions with me were payback from where Satan bought the dude's soul in exchange for earthly fame achieved by his sick guitar sound, also bestowed by Satan. But it would be OK if it were just regular Hell torture instead of retribution for double-crossin' the Devil. Either way's OK with me, I'm game. As long as I get a pre-nup or whetever is necessary to state that I am a guest of hell, not resident, and therefore I may leave at my will (or when formal contractual stay expires), and therefore I deserve amenities the normal non-damned people receive. Such as filtered cool water at my request. Comfy couches. Upscale hotel quality sleep arrangements--no dirty tricks, shower with blood, bed is secretly a monster, and so on.

I would also like the liberty as a non-resident of Hell to associate with whomever I please. For instance, if Hell has a library, I might like to meet the librarians. If some of the Hell demons are good cooks, I think I'd like to work out a friendly social arrangement with them where I get to share their supper.

I think, after all these musings, the result will be that I will re-invite my friend to play guitar with me. Casually, on couches, no burning torture chairs, a variety of chilled beverages if he wants them. Then I'll corner him and make him teach me about finger position and other technical things I haven't learned in class. It will be just like he is in Hell! Mwah ha ha haha!

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