As Anne Shirley has been known to say: I am in the "depths of despair". I told my father (not half an hour ago) that "I could positively murder his guitar" and I am not anywhere close to taking taking it back - not even mentally. Now, I would like to be the glass-half-full type and say something that I'm not annoyed with about the guitar... but I simply cannot see any half-fullness to this situation. What could I say? I'm thankful that the neck isn't too skinny? No, there is no such thing as a guitar with a neck that's too skinny. I'm thankful that my fingers aren't shorter? I'm not entirely certain that much would change if my fingers were shorter (all right, that's not true... I'm sure I ought to be very grateful that my fingers are as long as they are). If I were Anne I could imagine that my fingers were longer, or that the guitar's neck were skinnier, but it seems to me that the shortness of one's fingers isn't something that can be imagined away. It's all well and good to sit there thinking about what it would feel like if my fingers were long enough to play that dastardly Bb chord, but where does that get me? Exactly nowhere. As my favorite heroine has said before me “…the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop…” (you can find that quote on the thirty-second page of Anne of Green Gables). So, I can’t really bring myself to take the imagining rout. There is absolutely nothing I can do (alright, nothing that I want to do) except sulk about it for a while and wish death upon that abominable guitar – no, all of those absolutely atrocious guitars.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Thick Guitar Necks and Short Fingers:
A Declaration of Complaint.
As Anne Shirley has been known to say: I am in the "depths of despair". I told my father (not half an hour ago) that "I could positively murder his guitar" and I am not anywhere close to taking taking it back - not even mentally. Now, I would like to be the glass-half-full type and say something that I'm not annoyed with about the guitar... but I simply cannot see any half-fullness to this situation. What could I say? I'm thankful that the neck isn't too skinny? No, there is no such thing as a guitar with a neck that's too skinny. I'm thankful that my fingers aren't shorter? I'm not entirely certain that much would change if my fingers were shorter (all right, that's not true... I'm sure I ought to be very grateful that my fingers are as long as they are). If I were Anne I could imagine that my fingers were longer, or that the guitar's neck were skinnier, but it seems to me that the shortness of one's fingers isn't something that can be imagined away. It's all well and good to sit there thinking about what it would feel like if my fingers were long enough to play that dastardly Bb chord, but where does that get me? Exactly nowhere. As my favorite heroine has said before me “…the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop…” (you can find that quote on the thirty-second page of Anne of Green Gables). So, I can’t really bring myself to take the imagining rout. There is absolutely nothing I can do (alright, nothing that I want to do) except sulk about it for a while and wish death upon that abominable guitar – no, all of those absolutely atrocious guitars.
As Anne Shirley has been known to say: I am in the "depths of despair". I told my father (not half an hour ago) that "I could positively murder his guitar" and I am not anywhere close to taking taking it back - not even mentally. Now, I would like to be the glass-half-full type and say something that I'm not annoyed with about the guitar... but I simply cannot see any half-fullness to this situation. What could I say? I'm thankful that the neck isn't too skinny? No, there is no such thing as a guitar with a neck that's too skinny. I'm thankful that my fingers aren't shorter? I'm not entirely certain that much would change if my fingers were shorter (all right, that's not true... I'm sure I ought to be very grateful that my fingers are as long as they are). If I were Anne I could imagine that my fingers were longer, or that the guitar's neck were skinnier, but it seems to me that the shortness of one's fingers isn't something that can be imagined away. It's all well and good to sit there thinking about what it would feel like if my fingers were long enough to play that dastardly Bb chord, but where does that get me? Exactly nowhere. As my favorite heroine has said before me “…the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop…” (you can find that quote on the thirty-second page of Anne of Green Gables). So, I can’t really bring myself to take the imagining rout. There is absolutely nothing I can do (alright, nothing that I want to do) except sulk about it for a while and wish death upon that abominable guitar – no, all of those absolutely atrocious guitars.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Guitar's neck is fine; your fingers are fine... the real problem is the Bb chord. Who decided to write this chord in a song after all?
ReplyDeleteUkulele is a good option for people with short fingers though :) and it is a kind of cute instrument too. Just saying.