Wednesday, May 15, 2024
When I was thirteen years old, I approached my dad about teaching me how to play the guitar.
I’d grown up listening to him play and sing in the house, and for several years, he played around Central Texas with his band. Naturally, I wanted to follow in his footsteps. He sat down with me and a Fender electric, and he taught me how to play a D, an A, and an E chord. He told me with those three chords, I could play just about any country song I wanted, and that once I got those down, he would teach me more.
A couple of years went by, and I didn’t put as much energy as I should have into practicing those three chords. I ended up becoming impatient with myself, and on my 15th birthday, I went online and began looking up videos on how to teach myself so that I could one day surprise my dad. I practiced every single day, most of the time for several consecutive hours. My fingers built calluses in no time, and within a few weeks, I had learned my first song: Sheryl Crow’s cover of “The First Cut Is The Deepest.”
The more I practiced, the more I wanted to show my dad what I’d learned, so we could one day sit down and play music together. I’d remembered overhearing him tell a friend of his before that “Dust In The Wind” by Kansas was one of the prettiest songs ever written. I decided it would be the perfect song to play to show him that I had been trying. I asked him one night if I could show him something on his guitar, and I played it for him. That day when he went to the grocery store, he stopped by a local shop and bought me my first acoustic guitar. He surprised me that afternoon and brought home a Blueridge BR-40 with a cutaway and electronics, so I could plug it into an amp in case I ever played anywhere in public.
When I graduated from Berklee, my dad told me he had a gift for me out at the house. I came out and he showed me a beautiful, padded guitar bag with Blueridge embroidered on the bottom of the front. He told me to open it to check out the padding on the inside and, much to my surprise, there was a brand-new guitar: a Blueridge BR-70 with a cutaway, gold hardware, and abalone inlay in the frets, headstock, rosette, and bindings. I’ve played it at every single gig since, and I love it more with every chord.
I’ve been wildly blessed to have parents that have passed down their love and appreciation for music to me. They’ve always encouraged me to pursue a career in music, so long as it was what made me happy. I still have a long way to go, but I wouldn’t be where I am today without the constant respect, inspiration, and support I’ve received from my family.
