daily java

Daily Java:

It is good to give thanks to the Lord,
      to sing praises to the Most High.
It is good to proclaim your unfailing love in the morning,
      your faithfulness in the evening,
accompanied by the ten-stringed harp
      and the melody of the lyre. (Psalm 92:1-3 NLT)

Sometimes I just like to pick up my guitar and play and sing in praise. Maybe it is not for any particular reason, just because.

And it is always good, no matter what it is that I sing, whether I use the 12 string or the electric.

I am not very good at playing. I came from a denomination that didn’t believe in musical instruments so I never got adept at playing.

I learned to play in 1968. I don’t remember why I started, but it was that period of time in which a lot of guys began to play guitar. For one thing, it was a great way to meet girls (or at least you hoped so).

There was that picture of the kids all sitting around the campfire and someone has a guitar and they all sing. Or the guy sitting and serenading the girl as he sang with his guitar. Or any number of other scenarios, all of which ended with the girls being impressed.

None of that ever happened, though. I dated and married a girl who had no real interest in hearing me play the guitar, I never played it in groups, I sure didn’t play it in church. I would take it places occasionally, but in general, I was not very good and I didn’t play much.

I did play a couple of protest songs in 1968 in college for an English class conducted by a guy who thought himself to be cool. But that was one of my few performances.

In fact, I bought a guitar from a guy in 1974 for $20 and still have it. It was the guitar I had for almost 40 years now. And for 25 of those years, I played it and thought it was good.

It used to be a 12 string but most of the pegs are gone now, so it has, over the years, moved down to a 6 string. I painted it a few years back as a clown guitar, but otherwise, I rarely play it.

In general, it is a crummy guitar, but I cannot bear to let go of it. No one will want it after I die, so it has moved to the point of hanging on my wall as fold art.

I only started playing in 1994 when I left that denomination. My very first special in church was Amazing Grace sang accompanied by that guitar.

Since then I have owned several and given away several. In fact, I have probably given away maybe even ten guitars over the past decade or more. Not sure where I got them, but they seem to come in and then find someone who needs them.

Sometimes I am afraid that I wasted them, as I did recently when I gave one away and almost instantly regretted it. But I couldn’t get it back and I think the young man has never played it.

But I love to play. I think I see my playing days numbered, though, as my hands are giving me a lot of trouble.

But until I do, I will praise him accompanied by my own twelve stringed lyre.

a visit to a coffeehouse

Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy. (Psalm 33:3)

Tonight we went to a coffeehouse and heard a man play the 12 string guitar. He was purely instrumental, said he couldn’t sing, and played in a New Age style. He was very good, but he was a bit predictable in what he played. His style was that of a talented person noodling around on the guitar.

I found out, however, that he cannot read music and he plays by ear. He said he also plays each song exactly the same way each time. Hard as that to believe for me (I read music but am only average on the guitar), I have heard of several musicians lately who do not read music yet are world renowned musicians.

Paul McCartney and Jimi Hendrix were two that couldn’t read music but were very good at what they did. I can read music, but all I am is a consistent banger on the guitar.

It was enjoyable, but there were very few there. I suppose that the 3 degree temperature and the 15 mph north wind kept a lot of people inside. We had a good time, though, listening to him and I can see going back often.

I have always wished I could play like that. But growing up in a non-instrumental church there was never any real opportunity to do so. It was one of those things that never came up.

Ella was the same way in her playing the piano. All she did was play a few songs her dad liked and that was it. She never learned to really play like she could have in a church setting where instruments were allowed.

As I get older too, my hands are getting arthritis. It makes them hard sometimes to work right. I also have carpal tunnel syndrome, one of those new diseases, in my hands. It is really bad in my right hand, especially with the way I sleep with the sleep mask. I put it on, turn over and wake up several hours later with my hand dead.

Nothing I can do about it, but it does make my hand hurt when I play for a while. I get to where I can’t feel where the pick is in my fingers. I am afraid I will lose the pick one day and be playing energetically and cut my finger on the strings. That is a real fear, although it probably will not happen.

I just have to accept the fact that I probably will not get any great amount better. I just hope the arthritis and such holds off until I am ready to die. I like playing and singing. I do look forward, however, to the day when I have a praise band and someone else leads. That way I can play when I feel like it and not have to all the time.

It was a good evening. It was also different from what we ordinarily do.

One thing, though. The coffeehouse is basement level and has red brick walls. It reminds me of my coffeehouse so much that it was almost painful at first. I miss it and would give a lot to have it back. It also was the kind of coffeehouse we wanted to open in Kansas City, especially with the live music. It probably is good we didn’t. Ella probably couldn’t handle it.