August 16, 2005
My First Instrument
It was in Charleston, SC in 1976 when I bought my first instrument. Linda and I went to this little variety store so we could get something for the boys and something for ourselves. The first thing I picked up was a cheap guitar even though I knew absolutely nothing about how to play a stringed instrument. Before leaving the store I changed my mind and went to put it back. Then there was this little $75 banjo that caught my eye and that's all she wrote!
As I looked it over I started envisioning ME sitting up there on that little bridge, playing my banjo as the city dudes came a stummin' along in their canoe. Wow, I could taste the chewin' tobacco and feel my missing teeth already. Then I my mind blinked and I was in this ol' Model-T automobile racing along with machine guns a blazin' whilst I played something really fast and perfect on that banjo! Oh it was too much for a mere daydream. I HAD to take this banjo home and make this a reality!
Before we left the store, my wife, Linda, comes up and says, "You'll never play that thing. You'll just put it in the closet and it'll collect dust like any other hobby you've ever started!" We'll my friends, that did it. I was going to learn how to play that banjo or die trying! So, I bought me that first banjo right then and there in Charleston, SC and promptly got me the "ol' standard" book..."Earl Scruggs and the Five String Banjo" and went to work.
Earl's book showed quite a few different rolls and finger patterns to practice. It would show one and then say right below it, "Play 1000 times" or something like that. So, I timed how many times I could play it in 1 minute. With a little math I quickly figured out that I only needed to play each roll for about 1-1/2 hours. After listening to my own progress and then a record or two, I realized it was going to take much more, much much more to get really good at this. So, I quit keeping track of time on the repetitions and just worked until I got "comfortable" with each roll and push-off. Little did I realize this was about to bring upon a marital crisis.
Being on a nuclear submarine and currently in-port, I had about 30 days of Rest and Recouperation (did nothing) and then 60 days of part-time training before going back out to sea. I promptly used this time to go completely nuts. I would get up in the morning and start practicing. Oh sure, I fed the dogs and the kids and kept them out of the street. But, I practiced ALL DAY LONG. Then, after a quick dinner I went off to the back bedroom and practiced until I was forced to stop. Many days I was getting in 12 or more hours of practice each day!
Thankfully, Linda came to me one evening and told me how this was driving her crazy. She said it had gotten to where she couldn't really tell if I had stopped playing or not 'cause the noise kept bouncing around in her head. And she told me that she better never hear Cripple Creek again. Well folks, that's all it took for me. I immediately cut back my practicing to only 8 hours per day AND I vowed to never play Cripple Creek again (in her presence).
That little no-name $75 banjo, the music from a couple of morally decrepid movies, and my crazy dream of playing this "new" music, Bluegrass, had caught me...hook, line and tuner.
Posted by banjonut at 1:18 PM