My mother played the piano, my father whistled when he was happy. When I was a lad I learnt to play the trumpet for a while – badly. I think I chose it as the lesser of two evils, the other option being the piano.  In those days you did as you were told. I must have fancied myself as a budding ‘Satchmo’ but years later I learned how Louis Armstrong got that nickname, and I was glad I wasn’t a successful trumpeter, because I might have ended with a rubber face too. Anyway after a winter of biking to music lessons in the dark, and going to a band practice where I never got much better because I didn’t do much ‘practice’ I was allowed to hang up my horn. Strike 1

My next musical phase was many years later, after graduating from University in 1973. Like most under-graduates I had managed to afford to buy a stereo turntable to play my LPs on, and had favourite artists to sing badly and drunkenly to. Some of my favourite tracks were the Guitar Anthems like ‘Stairway To heaven’ by Led Zeppelin , or ‘While my guitar gently weeps’ by George Harrison. Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix were the buzz. At one stage, between failed love affairs, I bought a classical guitar so I could learn to play and console myself, and perhaps attract the next lucky woman ) . This time I bought a book, practiced, got my fingertips hardened a bit, learned to strum and play a few chords, even worked on a picking style but it didn’t do anything for the fairer sex, so I dropped off again.  Strike 2  My little cousin David, now 6ft plus, used to muck about with the guitar and he went on to become an accomplished guitarist and singer, so I’ll take some credit for providing the spark ) I sold the guitar.

Fast forward to 1988. I got married without the help of any guitar. Sometime after the honeymoon, I bought another guitar (with a hard case) and this time I took some lessons from a real live teacher. But trundling over at night to a little room in a community hall, after a late night clinic, and sharing the tutor’s time with some young kids who were better at it, soon palled. And it wasn’t really in the budget to pay for private lessons, after nappies and car seats.  The hard case came in handy because I could put stuff on top. strike 3 I didn’t sell the guitar though.

Will I ever learn to play the guitar and express myself as an artist?  see verse 2.