In honor of the new Multipurpose Room (christened Da Bone Yard in honor of its former occupant), I am teaching myself to play guitar. Somewhere along the way we picked up an electric guitar that I discovered in the closet of the Jones Memorial Shit Pile (the former creative arts now guest suite). Its origin is uncertain and its owner is unknown, so I've decided to torture it a bit by learning on it.
The instruciton manual that I picked up is trying to be funny and trying to keep the process of learning the world's most frustrating musical instrument (well aside from the violin which must be a bitch and a half to learn) light and entertaining. The book is quite enthusiatic at times, and seems to have a rather musically obsessed teen with self-esteem issues in mind: "Take a break," it suggest on page 15. "Get some sleep, maybe some breakfast." It is also well-aware that its simple songs are not going to be well-received by the average teen: "WARNING: With only two notes, this excercise is rather boring. Hang in there..."
If I weren't so damn old I'd think that the book was trying to be like my dad trying to be cool. Right now I kind of want to buy the book a beer. It is masochistically cheery and must need a few after having to listen to all us wannabes try to play.