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bodia
Authorities said.....best leave it.....unsolved
Sending good mojo your way!
veinbuster
Zombie Three, DFZ
Thanks for the update Les. Stable until surgery would be good.
D
Deleted member 5962
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Les, so the details of my quitting are simple. (First, a little background: Raised in a family of musicians, took classical piano lessons from the time I was 4 and by 14 was very advanced, but broke my parents hearts when I quit because I wanted to play guitar).
So, I've been a jock all my life. I broke my left wrist playing basketball years ago. I could not bend my left wrist without pain. It didn't stop me from playing basketball or softball, but I could not play guitar. It just ached when I'd try to bend it and keep it bent to play. I tried moving my guitar up high. No Jimmy Page slinging it below the belt stuff. Didn't help, it KILLED my hand to play for more than a few minutes. I had to quit.
15 years ago, I told my wife that it was simply part of my life that I couldn't live without. I told her that my wrist had slowly gotten better and better, and that if there was ANY way at all, I was going to start playing again. I had only kept one guitar from my "selloff" and that was my 79 Ibanez Artist, which was my high school graduation present from my parents. I may have mentioned here before, my dad was a car dealer. I was going to college and he gave me the choice: New car, or new guitar. I chose the guitar!
Anyway, I got the Ibanez out and started trying to play, my wrist didn't bend like it used to, so I started stretching every day, several times a day. It led to a lot of soreness, but eventually got much more flexible, and I slowly got back to playing. I didn't have a lot of strength in my hand due to the wrist damage, but slowly that came back. A year later, my wife bought me my first PRS for our anniversary, and I immediately knew that I had to start REALLY playing again. I gradually got back my chops but never quite as good as I was. But I was getting there... 12 years ago I got hit by a guy who ran a stop sign and he drove directly into highway traffic at 45MPH and drilled me. I wasn't really hurt much in the wreck, but my head got jerked around really hard and I suffered nerve damage in my neck (left) which goes all the way down my arm and to my ring and middle fingers. This caused a lack of coordination between those two. Starting about 5 years ago, arthritis set into my ring and pinky fingers on my left hand, in the joints that had been dislocated several times (playing basketball of course).
I can't play like I used too. I was playing the guitar heros of the day when I was 16 on. Van Halen, DiMeola, Page, Blackmore, Trower, Hendrix, etc. I was one of those "note for note" guys. I used to be able to play pretty well. The "happy birthday" thing you heard was done after all of these setbacks. I may not be quite as fast, or precise as I was and some chord changes can be difficult, but I'll never quit playing again, EVER. If I end up playing like Django because only two fingers work, then that's what I'll do. It's just something I can't be happy without.
If you get down, don't stay down. And whatever you do, DON'T QUIT!
So, I've been a jock all my life. I broke my left wrist playing basketball years ago. I could not bend my left wrist without pain. It didn't stop me from playing basketball or softball, but I could not play guitar. It just ached when I'd try to bend it and keep it bent to play. I tried moving my guitar up high. No Jimmy Page slinging it below the belt stuff. Didn't help, it KILLED my hand to play for more than a few minutes. I had to quit.
15 years ago, I told my wife that it was simply part of my life that I couldn't live without. I told her that my wrist had slowly gotten better and better, and that if there was ANY way at all, I was going to start playing again. I had only kept one guitar from my "selloff" and that was my 79 Ibanez Artist, which was my high school graduation present from my parents. I may have mentioned here before, my dad was a car dealer. I was going to college and he gave me the choice: New car, or new guitar. I chose the guitar!
Anyway, I got the Ibanez out and started trying to play, my wrist didn't bend like it used to, so I started stretching every day, several times a day. It led to a lot of soreness, but eventually got much more flexible, and I slowly got back to playing. I didn't have a lot of strength in my hand due to the wrist damage, but slowly that came back. A year later, my wife bought me my first PRS for our anniversary, and I immediately knew that I had to start REALLY playing again. I gradually got back my chops but never quite as good as I was. But I was getting there... 12 years ago I got hit by a guy who ran a stop sign and he drove directly into highway traffic at 45MPH and drilled me. I wasn't really hurt much in the wreck, but my head got jerked around really hard and I suffered nerve damage in my neck (left) which goes all the way down my arm and to my ring and middle fingers. This caused a lack of coordination between those two. Starting about 5 years ago, arthritis set into my ring and pinky fingers on my left hand, in the joints that had been dislocated several times (playing basketball of course).
I can't play like I used too. I was playing the guitar heros of the day when I was 16 on. Van Halen, DiMeola, Page, Blackmore, Trower, Hendrix, etc. I was one of those "note for note" guys. I used to be able to play pretty well. The "happy birthday" thing you heard was done after all of these setbacks. I may not be quite as fast, or precise as I was and some chord changes can be difficult, but I'll never quit playing again, EVER. If I end up playing like Django because only two fingers work, then that's what I'll do. It's just something I can't be happy without.
If you get down, don't stay down. And whatever you do, DON'T QUIT!
I shall not quit!
So many friends here have convinced me! My son son told me! My docs, too!
Funny, both of us started piano at 4. That's fairly unusual!
veinbuster
Zombie Three, DFZ
Glad to hear it.
I've had to reset my standard for performance on a couple of things over the years. I'm not saying there wasn't a bit of cussing along the way, but I'm mostly ok with the best the current me can be.
D
Deleted member 5962
Guest
Les, my parents were going to wait til I was 5, but at 3 I was already sitting at the piano (we always had a full sized grand piano in our living room) and figuring out songs so they figured it was better to take lessons than develop bad habits. My mom was a better player than my teacher, but they always felt we'd learn better from another teacher than we would from our mom. I think that was true. But mom gave piano lessons in our home and had as many as 15 students per week for a while. She worked, so it was never her "job" like it was my teachers (who always had 40-50 students). Anyway, at 3 I was playing songs out of my moms 2nd and 3rd grade books, so by the time I was 4, she figured it was time for me to start lessons, because nobody was showing me anything, I was just figuring it out.
By the time I was in Jr. High, I was pretty good. (I hate telling the full truth on this stuff because it comes off as bragging...sorry!) When my teacher had annual recitals, she had 3 due to the number of students, and they were always divided by age. By the time I was in 6th grade, I was playing in the "high school" recital. My last recital was 8th grade. You played in order of what the teacher felt was how good you were. In 8th grade I played next to last. The only student who played after me and the one who played right before me, were both seniors, and both to this day are full time professional musicians, both with masters degrees in music from college and have never had any other job than musician. I was playing Bach, Chopin, etc. when I was in Jr. High. It broke my parents hearts, but I quite that summer after 8th grade, because I just didn't want to play piano any more, I wanted to play guitar.
My dad struggled with it for years because he really wanted me to be a concert pianist. However, he walked in one night when I was 17 and saw me playing something and and later that week was the first time he ever bragged about my guitar playing. We had company and he called the guy (his best friend) in and said "play that thing you were playing the other night." Then he turns to our friend and says "watch this." Dad had a music degree. He'd come in the room when I was playing Hendrix or Trower, bending notes, making faces, and he'd just shake his head. Coming from a classical background, he never got the blues. But this song impressed him. The song he requested, Eruption.
Les, my parents were going to wait til I was 5, but at 3 I was already sitting at the piano (we always had a full sized grand piano in our living room) and figuring out songs so they figured it was better to take lessons than develop bad habits. My mom was a better player than my teacher, but they always felt we'd learn better from another teacher than we would from our mom. I think that was true. But mom gave piano lessons in our home and had as many as 15 students per week for a while. She worked, so it was never her "job" like it was my teachers (who always had 40-50 students). Anyway, at 3 I was playing songs out of my moms 2nd and 3rd grade books, so by the time I was 4, she figured it was time for me to start lessons, because nobody was showing me anything, I was just figuring it out.
By the time I was in Jr. High, I was pretty good. (I hate telling the full truth on this stuff because it comes off as bragging...sorry!) When my teacher had annual recitals, she had 3 due to the number of students, and they were always divided by age. By the time I was in 6th grade, I was playing in the "high school" recital. My last recital was 8th grade. You played in order of what the teacher felt was how good you were. In 8th grade I played next to last. The only student who played after me and the one who played right before me, were both seniors, and both to this day are full time professional musicians, both with masters degrees in music from college and have never had any other job than musician. I was playing Bach, Chopin, etc. when I was in Jr. High. It broke my parents hearts, but I quite that summer after 8th grade, because I just didn't want to play piano any more, I wanted to play guitar.
My dad struggled with it for years because he really wanted me to be a concert pianist. However, he walked in one night when I was 17 and saw me playing something and and later that week was the first time he ever bragged about my guitar playing. We had company and he called the guy (his best friend) in and said "play that thing you were playing the other night." Then he turns to our friend and says "watch this." Dad had a music degree. He'd come in the room when I was playing Hendrix or Trower, bending notes, making faces, and he'd just shake his head. Coming from a classical background, he never got the blues. But this song impressed him. The song he requested, Eruption.
Very cool!
I have a kind of funny music story...dissimilar but typical of my misguided youth. I was not a serious musician as a kid, even though I had lots of music lessons, and was a decent enough player on piano and guitar, I was a bit lazy. I was a good student, but a bit lazy there, too, and never gave it 100% effort.
But I tested really well on the SAT. I had a lucky day, you know? I was one of those guys who always did well on standardized tests.
After I got into Michigan, my father thought, "Why not apply to Harvard?" Our neighbor was the local Harvard interview man; in those days you had to meet with the local interviewer before you could get an application.
I knew 100% I was NOT Harvard material. Even with good SATs, my grades were not up to Harvard level; you had to be brilliant, with perfect grades, great extracurriculars, and special talents even then, and my only extracurricular activities were my rock band and my girlfriend, neither of which were Harvard qualifications. But he talked to our neighbor, and insisted that I go meet the guy. My father was very unrealistic about my potential.
Anyway, I get to the guy's house, and we have a pleasant interview, but I can see in his face that I am not impressing him even slightly as Harvard material. With every answer, he kind of cocked his head and the look on his face was, "Really? WTF is this kid doing here?"
"So, Les, what are your grades like?"
"I dunno...3.4-ish..." (this GPA would be laughed at on a Michigan application today, even with my SAT score)
Interviewer cocks head to the side and looks puzzled.
"So you must play sports then!"
"No."
Interviewer cocks head and looks puzzled again. Rinse and repeat with every question and answer.
But the interview room had been a music room for the prior owner of the house in the 1930s, and it had a huge pipe organ with real pipes and the full kit, pedals, pull stops, the whole nine yards. I was DYING to try that organ. I kept eyeing it during the interview.
Finally, he looked at me, and said, "I see you have an interest in the organ." I said, "Yes, I play organ." Well I did play organ. In a ROCK BAND. LOL
I'm sure he expected that finally, he would understand why someone had sent me to him for this interview. Perhaps I was a talented musician on organ! Harvard would often offer admissions to talented young classical musicians.
What he didn't know was that although I'd had classical music lessons as a kid on piano, I hadn't played any classical music in years, so I said, "No, I just think that organ is incredible. I'm not good enough to play that." But he said, "Oh, don't worry, just play anything you like, I'd like to hear you play." Again, expecting a nice Bach Fugue or something.
Well, how could I resist trying that organ? I knew that was all I was going to get out of this interview.
So I sat down at this giant pipe organ, and he fired it up, and I put my feet on the pedals to play the bass lines, and - how could I resist - I played "House of the Rising Sun" and "Green Onions." Hahahahaha!
Anyway, I finish, and the guy is being nice verbally, but is scowling and is clearly thinking, "This kid is a complete idiot."
I didn't much care. I'd had a little fun. It made my day to play a real pipe organ, I'd never played one before.
But he did hand me a Harvard application. I said, thanks, went home, threw it in a drawer, and told my folks I sent it out but never heard back from Harvard. LOL
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veinbuster
Zombie Three, DFZ
Now that was a couple of great stories.
My music history is much more a case of unrequited love, at least from 4-14.
My music history is much more a case of unrequited love, at least from 4-14.
