Often I lament not being able to play an instrument.
I was in choir through high school (no jazz hands, thank you very much) which gave me the insight to read music, but that’s the extent of my musical ability.
Well, my mom had a dulcimer I picked at during my youth, and we had one of those double-tiered organs with the bossa nova buttons. At my most engaged I was picking out songs from the Liberace and Anne Murray songbooks with one finger.
Today, I met up with a friend at the guitar store and I was sort’ve bowled over. So many tuners, cords, amps, and other paraphernalia—with prices that ranged from reasonable to (insert jawdrop). Maybe it’s best that not everywhere is a candy store and practicing restraint is entirely possible.