The beginning of my life
“Bought a bouzouki, had a good
laugh, saw bikers everywhere”
Yesterday was my last gig with my high
school; there is no way to express how relieved I am that I have
passed this milestone. Next step, real life!
Or so most people tell me. It is nice
to wake up in the morning and not have to think about the homework I
need to complete for Monday, or fight with the school site to find my
grades. I didn't even have to boot my computer up today, but I did
out of choice.
Vintage Fret Shop, look it up if you
are even in Ashland New Hampshire. Ashaland is on the north western
side of lake winnipesaki, and well worth the drive for a laid back,
back woods feel to the place. There are no straight highways through
the place, and I'm pretty sure that there are more moose than people
up there. Anyhow, the Vintage Fret Shop was a beautiful little place;
I got the feeling that it was going to be nice inside the moment I
opened the door. Mainly because a guitar had been rigged above the
door set to strum out a chord by the door's opening and closing. So
cool.
I had come all the way up to the shop
to check out the bouzouki that they had advertized they had in the
store. I had called in earlier today, and, after leaving a message,
got a call back within fifteen minutes of my initial call. They gave
me an example of what the bouzouki sounded like over the phone, and
after I gave the man some feedback, he reserved it for me until I got
to the shop.
The bouzouki is a Trinity College
Irish Bouzouki, solid spruce top, with about 27” of string length,
from top knot to bridge. The thing plays wonderfully, without a
scratch on it or anything. The cross at the head of it is a little
much for me, but overall, it was well worth the money I paid for it
(which was more than reasonable, I might add). I am not a bouzouki
player yet, but I thought I would get my hands on one and try it out,
just to get my fingers working on something or other.
While I was checking out some of the
other instruments (guitars, banjos, violins, bodhrans, and the like),
I came across quite the character. He was in his seventies, playing a
banjo like there was no tomorrow. Naturally, I nosed in, and decided
to preen his life story from him. He has been playing banjo and
guitar for the past fifty years, going from occupation to occupation
through that time. He showed me how to strum, pick, and understand
the basics of a banjo, and I found that the instrument was more
beautiful, and simple than I had thought before. He showed me a
couple of chords, and then played a song on the guitar while I
fingerpicked the banjo along with him. He can sing really well, by the way.
I thanked him for showing me how to play the banjo, and soon made my
purchase, and hit the road.
