My new mentors: Emmylou Harris (doesn't she look fabulous with white hair?), The Waifs, Iris DeMent and Zack Richard. Now I need one specializing in three-chord Spanish songs.
Over the past week I've been plunking away somewhat half-heartedly at the guitar, doing scales (yawn), practicing chord progressions and building callouses on my fingers. Yesterday I went to the Captain's Club for Open Mike and to meet Jesse, who had said he could give me guitar lessons. He showed up, we did four Spanish songs, including one with another woman named Anna, and it felt great to be making music again with friends.
But then, que lastima! Jesse told me he was moving to Hermosillo this week. Jobs here are scarce and the hours he was working were cut back so he can't make a living here. Hermosillo is a bustling city full of opportunities, not dependent on the tourist and boater market, and he has hopes of being able to get a good job playing music. He has a son in Guaymas, Jesse Jr., age 17, who came with him last night and did several songs, gradually increasing in confidence. I'm sure Dad will want to come back regularly to spend time with him, since Hermosillo is only a couple of hours away by bus. So maybe I'll still get a lesson, now and then. And Steve, another Captain's Club regular, said he could teach me some "simple guitar riffs." I wonder if he knows how simple it will have to be...
The Capt brought the car to pick me up after sunset, because he'd seen two snakes on the road near our house, one looking a little aggressive) and was thinking that after the rains there might be a lot of them. Our friend Janet was bitten on her foot in the boatyard one night last year.
I told him my sad news, that I'd lost my guitar maestro before my first lesson. As consolation, he offered to wash the dishes so I could do some practice (dishwashing softens the callouses and makes it harder to play). Then he hooked up my guitar to his extra amp so I could hear my chords better. And now I'm a believer. Always sort of a purist about playing acoustically before, now I see why Bob Dylan plugged in, in spite of the scorn of his fans.
My practice last night consisted of figuring out the chords for a few songs I have on iTunes, and then playing along with them. "Leaving Louisiana" with Emmylou Harris, "Lighthouse" with The Waifs, "Let the Mystery Be" with Iris DeMent, and "Jolie Blon" with Zachary Richard (now that was fun, I have a soft spot for Cajun). I pretended I was sitting in with the bands, who were all most cooperative and even patiently stopped and repeated passages when I got stuck. They were all easy three-chord songs, and I was concentrating on playing them clear and sweet, and in tempo with the pros.
The chords I've learned are A, A-minor, B, C, D, D-minor, E, E-minor and G. I'll get to F but it's a little harder to play clearly. Eventually I want to be able to play barre chords (the ones where the forefinger frets several strings simultaneously) but my digits don't have the strength yet and it sounds dismal.
The Capt allowed that I was sounding better after a couple of hours of playing. And my fingertips are still tingling.
Adios, Jesse, y vaya con díos.