My First Guitar | Teen Ink

My First Guitar

November 29, 2010
By Anonymous

“A guitar is great, but you will never earn a living by it.” Yes, I remember my father

telling me that when I innocently asked for one just 5 years ago. Is that any way to talk to a

child, let alone your own daughter? Now, years later inspiration has struck from an un-

suspecting place and the desire to hold a guitar in my hands has come again. To feel the

sensation of my fingers strumming over the fine tuned strings. I think I have found a way

to retrieve such a musical device. My Mom.




It was the start of a new school week. I woke up as normal and did my routine

Just as I always would. It was not until we were in the car that I had the sudden urge to bring

up such a subject. The words seemed to just roll right off my tongue and could not be

stopped. “Can I have a guitar?” I blurted out, not really wanting to know the answer. “A

guitar?” my mother asked. By now I could feel the car coming to a slow. “yes” I said, my

voice slightly shaking. “I get it” “you want a guitar because you have become so infatuated

with the Beatles.” That was a true statement; so true that I was at a loss for words. “Let me

guess, you were up late on the computer watching the anthology videos and you learned that

they started to play right around your age.” “Is this correct?” Wow, that was exactly what I

did last night. Was she watching me? Had I been so entranced by the video that I hadn’t

notice that she had come in? Possibly, but I could not let her know this. Before I could

lie, “yes” rolled off my tongue. “Ah” she said beaming at me. “Well I suppose we could go

look around.” I gave a nod, but it was all I could do not to look up at the sky and scream

“YES!” By the time I knew it we were at school and my day was off to a good start.




When I got to my Aunt’s house, I did my homework and listened to music. Every

couple minutes I would look up at the clock and the window hoping to see my mother

outside waiting for me. Finally there she appeared from around the corner carefully pulling

into the drive way. I didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, I just went out to the car. “Can

we go look for a guitar?” “Alright” she said reluctantly. During the car ride, I couldn’t help

thinking what it must have been like for the Beatles when they got their first guitars’. How

exciting it must have been, epically back in the 50’s. Without wasting a second, I got out of

the car and ran straight for the door of the little music shop.




As I walked in, I noticed a pungent smell. It smelled clean and crisp. There

were instruments everywhere. Some hung form the ceiling and others were in corners that

seemed secluded. I pondered about the kind of people that invented these instruments, let

alone who could actually play them. Some I had never even seen or heard before. A man

suddenly came out of the back room that was hardly recognizable from the entrance. “Can I

help you?” he said in a friendly and reassuring tone. “Yes” I said excitedly. “I would like to

purchase a guitar.” “Well you’ve come to the right place.” After a few moments of careful

browsing and measurements I had finally found my guitar. It was plain, but I knew this

instrument would become more than just a guitar. It would become my friend and

companion for years to come.




The minute we walked in the door, I went to my room and started to strum. It

was not tuned and I did not have a pick. I can’t imagine what I had put my mother through

that night. By morning my fingers were swollen and I had already begun to form calluses’.

I didn’t care; I would be comfortable with playing challenging songs. It hurt to write the next

day and for about the next 2 weeks. After that I felt nothing and could already play about

2 songs. My patience and hard work had paid off.




Even today I am still learning and practicing. I know I am still getting better

everyday and I have realized how much music can affecet your attitude and mood. I love

hearing the mesmerizing that a couple strums can make. Every now and then I think back

to when my dad said. He was right a guitar is great, as for making a living by it, well, only

time will tell.


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