As a parent of two, one of whom is only three months old, I’m usually too busy or tired to write about how it is to live this life.
Fortunately, my family picks up the slack.
My brother just posted this nice video of 3B leading a bluegrass jam session through Puff the Magic Dragon. 3B did much the same at a birthday party this weekend where he found an unused guitar behind a buffet (seriously…I’m too tired to make up a detail like that), picked it up, started picking it (yes, I travel with a pick, just in case), and soon had a rapt audience of three-year olds and their parents as he ripped through the greatest hits of Rocknoceros.
The parents asked me if he was taking lessons.
When I worked in theater, I frequently reminded my boss that he couldn’t pay me enough for some of the work I did–particularly the parts after midnight and between 60 and 80 hours per week. It was my way of reminding him, and me, that I was there not only for the money, but also because I liked the job.
So, no, 3B doesn’t take lessons…from an instructor other than himself. Nobody is a better or more unforgiving or more demanding instructor than desire. 3B’s lessons consist of listening endlessly to his favorite tunes and to any new music he can find and playing along whenever he can–much as my friends in high school and college learned every note of hundreds of songs.
But sometimes, it does help to have someone adjust your guitar strap and show you a few licks. Fortunately, we found the right spot for that, because, as my brother wrote:
It’s not everywhere a three-year-old can go and get an eight-piece band to play a tune just for him, but my nephew has just the right mix of charm and genuine interest.