2/31

Links to 1/31 &
the 31 Things Launch Post

I haven't touched my guitar for years. I guess we broke up. But I still love her. Hmm, that sounded a tad toxic, didn't it? 

I believe every home should have a guitar, or something to entice the musicians. Music is medicine, but in this metaphor I'm definitely not your pharmacist. 

The only song I ever truly learned was my favourite Christmas song: Happy Christmas (War is Over). Years later now, I can't even recall the first chord, but I will always and forever sing that song as loud as I can until, well, war is finally finally over. The world needs more John Lennon. 

Despite multiple attempts to gain competency, let's be honest: all my guitar ever did under my mismanagement was hide my stomach. And yes indeed, that's another reason to love a guitar. Perhaps it was because I never practiced? 

None of this matters though. Why? Dear friends, a guitar is a passport to  cool people. Despite my ineptitude, my conviction for music (and all arts), plus my commitment to providing exposure and encouragement means both my kids became musicians! Insert high-five here. Do you know what it feels like when your son can guitar-pick Tears in Heaven or when your daughter can strum her mandolin and move a crowd with her singing voice or when your oldest granddaughter is taking fiddle lessons?! It's pure heaven. 

Here's my point: you don't have to know how to play the guitar (or the piano or the harmonica or drums or some other musically vibrant thing) to alchemy music into the world. Support musicians and artists and soak in their sounds. And if you insist on mastering it yourself, do what another imposter guitar player once told me: pretend you know what you're doing and just play the chords you love. 

Sounds like a good way to live one's life, doesn't it? 

1/31

Link to My 31 Days of Things

I touch this bookmark almost every day. This is what my grandchildren call me. I chose this name, Pops, because to me it sounds informal, approachable, and somehow silly or jolly. M, my oldest grandchild calls me Poppy now. 💗 Also this: who doesn't love a pop? Root beer is my favourite. 

Sure, a bookmark is functional first, but it's like those strings attach me to my favourite five little humans. It was a gift from my son's partner who made it for me because she knows I revere books and reading, but better yet it's labeled with my personal grandfatherly identity and directive: to become (like my own Grandma was for me) an always available trusted someone. Dear friends, they are teaching me how to be a better man. 

Furthermore, don't you love the period? Full stop, it emphasizes that for the rest of my life, Pops is my sentence, in the best possible way, my ambition, my purpose, my vow.