Throughout my life, I've failed in numerous half-hearted musical pursuits. One of my first instruments was a small electronic “piano” toy with rubber keys labeled with the names of the scale (you know – do, re, mi, and so forth...). I plucked off one of the rubber keys and shoved it up my nose, never to be seen again. After my frantic mother rushed me to the emergency room, we mutually agreed that it was best for me to give up on my new instrument.
A little later in life, that same mother tried to teach me to play the real piano. She is a very talented pianist. In fact, both of my parents are extremely musically talented and play a variety of instruments very well. And they sing, too. In fact, they used to be a singing, song-writing duo who played all their own music. Why didn't I get any of this musical talent?? But, I digress. Back to my piano lessons... I never made it through my first primer. I did learn to play “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” but just with one finger, not with my hands placed properly on the keys. I've never been a big fan of that idea. In fact, I type on a computer keyboard in very strange way, too – primarily with my pointer fingers and thumbs, and sometimes I throw in the “bird” fingers and, every so often, the ring finger on my left hand. I have become rather speedy with this unusual typing style ...There I go digressing again.
Hmm, let's see...At what other instruments have I failed miserably? Oh, yes - the guitar! I decided when I was a grungy, angsty teenager that I would take up the guitar and learn to play all my favorite Nirvana songs. That didn't happen, either. Never even learned my first chord. I didn't give up on the strings completely, though. Last year, I decided to try to learn to play the fiddle. I figured learning to fiddle would be easier and cooler that trying to learn the violin. Besides, fiddlers usually just have a few short (seemingly easy enough) supporting parts in songs, then they play an awesome solo for about 30 seconds, and they've stolen the whole show! And, I just love the way the fiddle sounds! But alas, my fiddle career has not taken off nearly as quickly as I had hoped.
This is where the harmonica comes into the story. Recently, I was watching a documentary on how harmonicas are made, and all my smoldering hopes of becoming a musician were rekindled. “I want to learn to play the harmonica,” I announced to my husband, who has long ago become cynical of my musical attempts. “I have one,” he replied. Sure enough, tucked away in his nightstand was a brand new, still-in-the-package tremolo harmonica. She was a beaut! It was as if fate was telling me that it was my destiny to learn to play. I immediately began practicing the songs listed on the small piece of paper that was packaged with my harp, and it didn't take long to realize that this is the instrument I was always meant to play. Sure, my asthma has slightly interfered with my harmonica-ing, but I don't think it's anything I can't overcome. So far, I've learned to play “Silent Night” by memory, and I have played “Killing Me Softly” and “Oh Susanna” with the music in front of me. I'm still working on “Piano Man.” I'd like to get a little 10-hole harmonica to keep in my pocket. That way, any time I'm feeling the blues, I can just whip it out and wail on it.
I'm going to need a neat nickname if I'm going to become a famous Blues player. You know, like “Hambone” or “Rusty Nickel.” I'm open to suggestions.
