I heart the guitar ones.

I don’t know if it has anything to do with the fact that some of my earliest memories of my dad put a guitar in his hands… Spanish-sounding chord runs, Puff the Magic Dragon, old hymns, Simon and Garfunkel.

I don’t know if it has anything to do with the fact that I spent every summer at camp, where beat-up Takamines and Yamahas and Martins rested awkwardly in the arms of skinny kids playing “More Than Words” and U2 songs by ear.

I don’t know if it has anything to do with my friend Rene, who used to play James Taylor songs for me in stairwells in college, when I was very sad or very happy.

I don’t know if it has anything to do with the fact that the first person I ever fell in love with… really, really fell… was a better musician than he was anything else.

It just is. I love guitar-playing guys.

Not that every boy with a pack of strings in his back pocket is worth listening to.

Some bring tunelessness or affectation or imitation or arrogance or obviousness. And no one wants that, not even a die-hard like me.

But.

I’ve always just had this sense that I’ll get my own someday.

So, in celebration:

One of my favourite songs, ever. And yes, my dad can play it.

So very lovely.

A lullaby I sing to babies all the time.

Just joyful.

Yeah.

9 thoughts on “I heart the guitar ones.

  1. You know, I’ve been playing my guitar a lot lately. Too of my favourites along similar lines are Neil Young’s “Borrowed Tune” (only bad covers on YouTube) and Sufjan Stevens’ “Casimiar Polaski Day” (http://youtube.com/watch?v=17SqVt1GCa8), which is a gorgeous, whispered lullaby to a dying girl.

  2. Heh, you know, I kind of skimmed this entry, and went from the title to the links. I see, in retrospect, that I awkwardly look like a guitar playing boy. I am, only very casually, and didn’t really, uh, mean to position myself as such. If you get my meaning.

  3. GUITARS rule the musical universe. Period.

    Thanks for the links, they were great.

  4. Ah, guitar guys…yes. I try not to think of this interest as an affliction, but that’s what it’s turned out to be in real life. So I just stick with famous ones lately – less drama, more not-so-guilty pleasure.

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