This Is My Guitar

This is my guitar.  My mom gave it to me for my birthday last year, and I'm learning how to play.  I'm learning slowly, but I'm learning.  It's all part of my plan to slowly absorb the unique talents of my parents.  My dad is a beekeeper, so one day I guess I'll do that, too, but in graduate school, practicing my scales is way more manageable than large-scale apiculture.  

So far I've learned a few songs off of the Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, and Emmylou Harris album Trio (a staple of my childhood), and Lyle Lovett's fabulous "Skinny Legs."  Also, I've learned the C Major, C Pentatonic, G Major and G Pentatonic scales.  Watch out, Eric Clapton, here comes Amazing Cheastypants.

My mom only had three tapes when I was a kid.  She kept them in our Dodge Caravan (and later, the Plymouth Voyager, which, for expediency we still called "the Caravan") and that's all we listened to.  This is what they were:

1. The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem (Irish folk songs.  Once I was in a bar in London with Octavia - good trip! -- and this guy was up on stage singing Irish folk songs.  I was in the freaking UK, and I was the only person who knew all the words.  ALL of them.  To EVERY song.  And believe you me, after 7 or 8 flavored vodka shots  - oh, shudder - I sang very loud. Come on, Umulu, Crasey, Fairy King!  Sing with me.  "There was a wild colonial boy, jack duggin was his name..."  Or how about "I had threeeeeee greeeeeen fieeeeeelds, eeeeeach of them a je-wel...."  And my all time favorite, "To HELL with yer English permit, we want your motor car!")

2. The soundtrack to My Fair Lady.  (Mom always fast-forwarded through the part where Henry Higgins says "Damn, damn, damn, damn!" right before he sings "I've grown accustomed to her face."  I always thought that was a funny thing to do, considering we knew what he was saying anyways, because we watched the movie ALL THE TIME.  Movies we watched all the time, coming soon on this website.  I've got one word for you, kidlets: Gnome-mobile.)

3. Trio.  (A truly wonderful album, featuring songs about death, bereavement, and maudlin sentiments of lost love.  "Little Rosewood Casket" was always a favorite of mine, followed closely by "Oh, the Pain of Loving You." Nothing like crying your eyes out to the mournful wail of a mandolin to clear your chakras.)

And people marvel at how limited my understanding of contemporary popular culture is. Go figure.